


Filling the Void

by Velace



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, F/F, Fluff, Mild Language, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-02-22 16:13:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 55,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2513981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velace/pseuds/Velace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Regina lost the woman she loved, she cast a curse that sent those of the Enchanted Forest to a land without magic where she adopted her son. She told him stories each night about an Evil Queen and her Black Knight, and after confessing his adoption to him, Henry came up with an idea that he hoped would bring the smile back to his mother's face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes another one. My muse has ADD.

_Regina hummed her approval as golden hair spilled out from beneath the dark helm, cascading over the broad shoulders of her most fearsome Knight. Pink lips quirked with a smile, one so familiar and full of mischief as the woman moved toward her and her breathe quickened in anticipation._

_Each morning was a prelude to these evenings, nights filled with pleasure and pain—sometimes in equal measure if the mood suited them. She smiled an indulgent smile as nimble, calloused hands worked their way down her body, discarding her outfit piece by piece until she stood bare for those hungry eyes._

_Raising a hand, she beckoned the woman to follow with the crook of her finger and backed toward the bed. Armour fell to the floor with each step as her Knight obeyed and when the back of her knees met resistance, she paused, taking her lower lip between teeth as she drank in the sight of all that beautifully defined, pale flesh on display for only her._

_Always, only for her._

_"Mine," she growled, reaching for the blonde with possessive hands and groaning into the mouth that immediately pressed to her own as her arousal multiplied and her thighs slickened with wet heat._

Regina inhaled sharply through her nose and dark eyes snapped open. As had been the case the last two decades, she was met with the stark white walls of her bedroom, trapped within a small town in Maine without her Knight to keep her company. She groaned and rolled from the bed with naught but memories from a time long ago, an ache between her legs and a mood most foul that none would escape her anger that day.

Pulling the tie of her robe tight around her waist, she made her way toward her son's room and roused him from slumber, snatching the covers from his small frame when he tried to roll over and return to sleep. She ignored his mumbled protests, throwing duvet and sheet to the floor before she marched from the room and back to her own, stripping herself bare before she ducked into the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later and with her anger only slightly abated by the relief she'd found beneath the hot stream of her shower, she emerged back into the hall in time to hear the door to the second bathroom close and she made her way downstairs to the kitchen.

Henry was accustomed to her traditional Monday temperament and made no comment when he came down after his own shower. He mumbled his thanks as she handed him a plate of his favourite food and skulked off to the den where he would watch his cartoons for the next half an hour while she prepared herself for work.

Routine was the theme of not just the Mills Household, but the entire town of Storybrooke and all characters played their part, day in and day out. Regina was tired of it, tired of the monotony, tired of being surrounded by constant boredom as she grew to despise everyone and everything with each passing day.

When there was a knock at her door, her lips curled in a sneer and her cup slammed down on the counter, coffee spilling out over the sides to pool on the pristine marble surface. She hissed as part of it scolded her hand and her sneer deepened as she stalked through the foyer, teeth grinding as she yanked open the door and exploded on her unsuspecting victim.

"What the hell do you want?" she snapped, the greeting unlike all the ones that had come before when faced with the man standing on her doorstep.

Robin blinked at her and his expression was that of complete shock, merely serving as fuel to worsen her bad mood and before he could stutter a response, she growled low in her throat and slammed the door in his face.

"Mom?"

The sound of her son's voice dampened the heat in her veins and her shoulders slumped dejectedly. She closed her eyes, pressing her forehead against the door as she replied, "Yes, dear?"

His arms wrapped around her from behind and he rested his cheek upon her spine, bringing a faint smile to her lips for the first time that morning. "What's wrong?" he questioned quietly and she sighed, bringing a hand up from her side to cover the two that sat on her stomach.

"I'm just missing…" My Knight, her mind supplied as she finished, "… someone."

"Emma," he guessed, attempting to comfort her as his arms squeezed her waist.

"Yes," she admitted, feeling lighter with the simple utterance of her name. She turned in his embrace and cupped the back of his head, murmuring her assurances that her mood would pass as he buried his face into her stomach.

It was a lie, one they were both all too aware of but he nodded regardless. She would always mourn the loss of the woman she loved, and he would always accept her little white lies to make himself feel better as was their purpose.

* * *

"Ms Mills, Deputy Hood is here to see you."

Regina stared at the intercom. She knew it would come sooner or later, she simply hoped for the latter and she wasn't prepared to face him. She should have told her secretary to make up an excuse and send him away if he appeared before she entered her office.

"Too late now," she muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes as she reached out a hand. "Send him in, Victoria, and take an hour for lunch."

When her door opened, she glanced down at the forms in front of her. Robin had tried for as long as she could remember to 'woo' her, as he had once put it. She had allowed it for a time, even encouraged it but after a while she realised no one would ever compare to her Emma and she'd put a stop to it—or at least, she had attempted to.

"You want to tell me what this morning was about?" He questioned, taking the seat across from her and she looked up briefly.

Shaking her head, she picked up her pen and tapped it on the edge of the desk as she considered her options. She could tell him to leave, that it was none of his business, which she knew would send him from her office faster than anything else would. Even if Rumple had been wrong to assume her supposed _soul mate_ was able to provide her an alternate happy ending, he had at least indulged her need for control and the former Outlaw feared her as much as anyone else in the town did.

In the end though, when he wasn't asking her out on dates or doing unnecessary and downright unwanted things like bringing her flowers, she considered Robin one of the few friends she had beyond those she'd known in the Enchanted Forest and turning yet another person against her didn't appeal to her as much as it had the Evil Queen.

"I was in a bad mood this morning and I unfairly took it out on you," she reasoned, hoping her expression showed at least a semblance of contrition. "I apologise and hope you can forgive me."

Robin was a sweet man, more often than not and while she may not love him and on occasion, even despised him—she adored his son, almost as much as she adored her own. Truly, all she hoped was that he believed she was sincere and waltzed himself from her office before she lost her temper again. With each passing day, it was becoming more and more difficult to hold on to her anger and should she need to release it, there were a number of townspeople she would much rather tear to pieces.

"Apology accepted." He smiled in a way that most would consider charming, but merely provided a warning to her for his next words as he leaned forward and suggested, "You could make it up to me by having lunch…"

Inwardly sighing and restraining herself from rolling her eyes again, she forced a smile of her own. "As much as I would like to join you for lunch, I have far too much paperwork to get done before the end of the day; rain check?"

"Of course," he replied and stood. "I'll let you get back to it then."

She nodded, her smile softening as relief lessened the tension in her shoulders and he turned, throwing a wave over his shoulder before the door closed behind him and she leaned back in her chair with a quiet, "Thank the Gods."

He really _was_ sweet, but the man was awful at small talk and the thought of being guilted into accepting his invitation had been a passing concern, one she was glad not to have been the case.

* * *

Hearing the bell above his door chime, Gold emerged from the back of the pawnshop and tilted his head curiously. He had hoped the boy would one day seek him out, but he hadn't expected it to occur quite so soon, though he was well prepared for the occasion.

Moving further into the shop, he attempted as passive a smile as he were capable and announced his presence to his curious visitor as he stood before the counter, "Master Henry; to what do I owe this surprise visit?"

The boy turned and chewed his lower lip, no doubt uncertain of his decision to ask an enemy of his mother for help and Gold's smile widened at the thought. It was a well-known fact that he and the Mayor rarely saw eye to eye, a common topic of conversation among the less important residents of their sleepy little town.

"I…" Henry started only to pause with a nervous swallow before he tried again. "Mom told me recently that I was adopted," he said and Gold nodded for him to continue when it looked as though he were waiting on some form of assurance he was heard.

"She said she came to you, to help her find me and… and I wanted to know if you could tell me who my birth mother is or maybe if you could… help me find her?"

* * *

_Emma tilted her head, a soft chuckle escaping her lips as she watched the Queen try to reach the branch above her head. The brunette shot her a glare but she paid it no mind, placing her arms on the back of the bench as she leaned back and admired the way the billowy white shirt rode above an olive waist._

_Her eyes drifted up to watch the purple smoke dissipate within a slim hand and she smirked upon seeing the apple that replaced it. "Cheat," she teasingly called before the brunette vanished from sight and reappeared a second later, sprawled in her lap as though she owned it._

_"We must content ourselves with the skills we possess," Regina purred silkily, capturing the hand slowly making its way up her thigh and slipping it beneath her shirt._

_"Speaking of the skills we possess," Emma grinned and lowered her head to claim dark lips, fingers moulding to a breast as the Queen moaned her approval and clutched her golden curls in her fist._

With a sigh, Emma shook the remnants of the dream from her mind and pushed up from the couch. Her back ached something fierce and her head throbbed in time to the beat of her pulse. She stretched as she moved to the kitchen, pausing with a hand on the counter as disorientation threatened to send her to the floor.

"Ugh, I need to stop drinking," she groaned to herself, retrieving a bottle of water from the refrigerator before stumbling her way down the hall to the bathroom.

Beneath the lukewarm spray of the shower, she closed her eyes and tilted her head back as she replayed her dream, recalling the feeling of absolute happiness that had overwhelmed her. She wondered who the dark-haired woman was, where her mind had conjured her from and why these images that played like fairy tales continued to plague her each night.

For as long as she could remember, the woman—the Queen had been at the forefront of her thoughts.

When strapped to the hospital bed, pushing the child from her womb that she then gave up for adoption in the hope he would have a better future than the one she could provide him, she still had thought of nothing but. Melodious laughter and crimson lips upturned with a smile so bright that her chest hurt at the mere sight of it had soothed years upon years of constant heartache, soothing the pain of a life filled to the brim with disappointment after disappointment.

Even then, as she recalled her past, the mistakes it entailed and the opportunities that passed her by, the face she had come to know as that of her own personal guardian angel lessened her melancholy with such an impish grin that Emma couldn't help but laugh out loud at the image.

The woman was beauty incarnate, a modern day Aphrodite and every day Emma prayed she would cross paths with someone like her. She knew, deep down it was wishful thinking and she dated on and off, knowing she couldn't rely on some woman from her dreams to appear out of thin air and take her back to that place; that place inside her head where she was happy, and loved beyond all hope and reason.

Stepping from the shower with a sigh and the yearning ache in her chest, Emma pulled a towel from the railing on the wall and tugged it around her body before she exited the bathroom. She moved to the door of her apartment and stared down at the mail delivered that morning, and suddenly froze as her eyes fell upon a familiar envelope.

After however many minutes had passed, she bent and snatched it from underneath the pile, almost tripping in her haste to her bedroom; an unexplainable _need_ to be certain it was the exact same as the ones she had received the last two months as she rummaged through the drawer of her bedside table.

There at the bottom, she found what she was looking for and dropped the two identical envelopes on to the bed beside the recent one. Her eyes darted between them, noting the similarities but also the differences. The handwriting wasn't the same, almost looking as though it were written by a child while the previous two were pure elegance, all three using the same envelope, with an initials on the back of the third.

H.M

She frowned, unable to recall having met anyone with the initials, male or female. She sighed, removing the small note from the first letter, the words written coming to her mind before she even looked.

_All is not as it seems._

The second contained a series of numbers—coordinates, she had deduced relatively quickly but when she had tried to find where they pointed, all she found was a long stretch of road with nothing for miles.

As the paper fluttered down to the bed, she grabbed the recent envelope and tore it open. Her brow rose on her forehead, surprised to find a letter inside, and one that seemed to confirm her earlier thought it was sent by a child as she started to read.

_Dear Emma,_

_My name is Henry Mills and I live with my Mom in a town called Storybrooke, Maine. She's the Mayor and we live in a super fancy house at 108 Mifflin Street. You probably think it's weird that I'm telling you this, but you'll understand at the end._

_Her name is Regina and she is the best Mom I could have asked for. She likes to tell me stories, about a Knight and a Queen who fall in love. It's my favourite, way better than all the fairy tales most kids know. She's the Queen. She doesn't think I know, but I do. I know she misses her Knight too, but no one knows where she is and it makes her sad thinking about her._

Feeling a pang in her chest, Emma stopped reading and rubbed at the spot, shaking her head as she continued.

_Mister Gold thinks I shouldn't tell you yet because then you might not come, but Mom tells me I shouldn't trust him and I want to meet you. I want you to meet her too. You have the same name as the Knight and even though you might not be her, you could still be friends and maybe she'd be less sad._

_My name is Henry Mills, and I'm the son you gave up for adoption ten years ago._

The letter slipped from her fingers and she swallowed the lump in her throat, catching sight of something else peeking out from the flap of the envelope. She stared at it, a weighted feeling sitting in the pit of her stomach as the words, "My son," spun round in her head.

Reaching out a shaky hand, she gingerly took that corner of something between thumb and forefinger, and pulled, instantly recognising it as a photo as she read the words on the back.

_Mom & me._

Blood rushed to her ears and her chest squeezed tight as she flipped it over. There, holding her baby boy in her hands stood the woman of her dreams, smiling that smile that threatened to tear her heart to pieces as she gasped for breath.

* * *

Emma swore and slammed on the breaks, growling as she opened the door and exited the car. For an entire week, she had debated the four-hour trip from Boston to Maine and despite the mountainous pile of evidence that suggested the town of Storybrooke didn't exist; she had taken a leap of faith and made the trip nonetheless.

All for naught it seemed, as the road surrounded by forest stretched as far as the eye could see and the maps she had pored over each night after work were right; there was no town here. She sighed, hand sliding up the side of her neck and into her hair where she fisted it at the roots in frustration.

"What the fuck was I thinking," she shouted, kicking the door shut before she draped her arms over the roof of the car and fell forward.

She rolled her head to the side, looking over her bicep at the road that disappeared around a bend as she congratulated herself for at least having the common sense not to give in to one of her more asinine whims by quitting her job.

The longer she stared though, the more she was convinced she _hadn't_ travelled all that way for nothing. The town had to be there somewhere. _Maybe the coordinates were off_ ; she thought and pushed away from the car with a frown. "Or maybe my GPS is a piece of shit," she mumbled, glaring through the window at said GPS as though it was entirely the device's fault for her predicament.

Nibbling her lower lip in thought, she glanced once more at the road. _It wouldn't hurt to drive a little further_ , her mind reasoned. She wasn't expected back at work until Monday, which was four days away—the woman of her dreams was worth another hour or two of aimless driving, surely.

With a decisive nod, she yanked open the door and dropped back down into the driver's seat. She started the car, pulled off the side of the road and continued forward—slamming on the breaks yet again, as her mind flooded with images and her eyes closed of their own accord.

Her eyes snapped open a moment later, and her head jerked to the side, gaze trailing the length of wooden legs and coming to rest on the bold white lettering:

Welcome to Storybrooke.

"Regina," she whispered. She remembered everything, who she was—what she was. Her eyes narrowed and she growled, "Rumplestiltskin."

* * *

Regina was running late for her meeting after Henry had decided to go and get himself sick, as if she didn't have enough things to worry about. She was thankful for David Blanchard; the man was a godsend when he offered to step in for his wife and take care of him, as Mary-Margaret was unavailable due to the children less fortunate than her son believed himself to be, what with a day off from school and all.

Her purse vibrated beside her and she rolled her eyes, waiting until she reached the lights before leaning over and rummaging through it for her phone. She frowned down at the text from the waitress, claiming there was someone at the diner looking for her.

Before she could respond, her phone vibrated with another text and her eyes widened as she read; _she says her name is Emma and—_ she didn't finish reading it, stepping on the gas as her phone flew from her hand and dropped somewhere to the floor under the passenger seat.

The hope that bubbled inside her chest was absurd. Emma was a perfectly common name, especially in this world but as the Mercedes shot down Main Street, she couldn't stop herself from feeling the anticipation. It had been too long, far too long since she last saw the woman she loved and if there was even the slightest chance…

There was no question.

She would risk the disappointment of a lifetime but if it was her, if it was _her_ Emma; then what she had done would finally be worth something—she could finally find the happiness Rumplestiltskin had promised would touch her life once more if only she did as he wanted and cast his stupid curse for him.

Her breaks screeched in protest as she stopped outside the diner and she flinched at the sound, but otherwise paid the car no mind as she threw open the door and launched herself from the vehicle. It was almost impossible to move quickly in three-inch heels, and yet she managed it somehow.

The first thing she noticed beyond the annoying tinkle of the bell above her head, was the look of surprise on everyone's face as she barged her way into the diner but the second—the second made her heart skip a beat and caused her legs to weaken at the knees.

"Emma," she whispered, almost afraid that if she spoke any louder, this would prove nothing more than one of her dreams and she would wake up, depressed and alone still.

The blonde head rose slowly from leather-clad arms folded across the counter and Regina held her breath as she took a step toward the woman, releasing an undoubtable cry of happiness as emerald eyes turned on her and Emma scrambled from the stool.

A hand reached out, barely an inch from her face before it retreated and Regina frowned. Her body practically screamed out in anguish at not being touched after so long and she shot out a hand of her own, latching on to the wrist and bringing it back her cheek.

Closing what felt like a gaping chasm of distance between them, Emma moved and cupped her other cheek in hand, thumbs stroking reverently across flesh as she questioned quietly, "You remember?"

Confusion distorted her features before it was replaced with realisation and she looked to the waitress who stood staring at them as though watching one of those idiotic rom-coms that her best friend was so fond of, and she chuckled at the thought. Emma had clearly tried to communicate with someone she thought knew her, only to find no one remembered their real identities.

She nodded with a small smile on her lips. "I do and I thought it my curse these last twenty years," she confessed, her voice low so no one besides the two of them could hear her words. "I missed you, my Knight."

Emma grinned, one hand sliding from a cheek to wrap around a neck as she pulled Regina flush against her and murmured, "And I you, my Queen," before capturing plump red lips in a heated kiss filled with desperation and longing.

The diner erupted around them; the comments hushed but numerous, punctuated with the soft gasps of surprise that made olive cheeks redden hotly. Despite her blooming embarrassment however, when she felt Emma try to break their reunion short, Regina threaded her fingers through the silken mane of golden locks and forced the blonde to stay a while longer, smiling at the content sigh she felt against her lips.

Eventually the two had to part if they didn't want to put on a particularly revealing show for the rest of the town and as her stomach rolled with arousal, Regina chose that moment to pull back. She knew they needed to talk—desperately, and she grabbed Emma by the hand, leading her from the diner where she was prevented from venturing further at a gentle tug of insistence.

"What happened?"

She shook her head, turning and pressing a kiss to pale lips. "Not here," she said with a squeeze of their hands. Emma nodded her understanding and Regina guided her over to the car, smirking as Emma approved of the choice.

"Mercedes, nice."

"You know me." Regina pushed her front against the blonde's back as she purred into her ear, "Only the very best for the Queen."

Lifting an olive hand from her hip, Emma dusted knuckles with the soft caress of lips and questioned, "Why else would I have become your most valued Knight, if not to be claimed by you?"

Regina hummed, chest warming with the comment as well as the gesture. Even after all their time apart, Emma still made her feel things no one else ever had, or ever could and it caused both desire and love to flare inside of her as she nuzzled into a neck that smelled wonderfully of vanilla and leather.

"It has been far too long," she husked, nipping pale flesh and relishing the shiver that shook the blonde's body.

"Far too long," Emma repeated her agreement, closing her eyes as she turned her head and leaned in, skirting her lips tenderly over a warm cheek.

When Regina managed to separate herself from the blonde long enough to walk around to the other side of the car, they both entered the vehicle and grinned as their doors closed in synch. Their hands instantly met over the console and Regina held tight, fearing that if she let go for even a moment, Emma would disappear from her life once more.

As soon as they reached the mansion, Regina was out of the car and she smiled as she heard the blonde follow her. She needed to get inside, to erase the potential for disaster before either David or Henry noticed the Mercedes in the driveway and came out to meet her.

Opening the door and entering the foyer, she heard laughter from the den and frowned. Henry was supposed to be up in his room, and by the sound of him, it appeared she had been misled that morning.

She sighed and moved to the entrance of the den, taking Emma's hand once again and giving a subtle shake of her head as the blonde opened her mouth. Clearing her throat, David looked up at them and smiled, standing from the couch and walking over to them.

"I thought you had a meeting?"

"Something came up," she said and side-glanced the woman beside her as David chuckled, his eyes lighting on their joined hands.

"Emma, this is David Blanchard," Regina introduced the two, biting her lip as she watched brother and sister stare at each other, one gaze welcoming while the other clouded with confusion. "Friend and occasional sitter when my son decides to feign an illness," she added, a small glare directed toward Henry who grinned at his mother from his position laid across the sofa.

A brow rose and Regina knew Emma would have questions, but she accepted David's proffered handshake with a warm smile. "It's nice to meet you," she said, releasing his hand as she glanced over his shoulder to the boy.

Inclining her head to David, Emma stepped around him and moved toward her son. Emma Swan the Bounty Hunter would have been filled with trepidation at the prospect of meeting him, but Emma Swan the Black Knight and Consort to the Evil Queen was more curious than anything else.

"Hi," he whispered and she grinned, crouching down that she was eye level with him and could speak without being overheard.

"Hey," she replied. "Who's Mister Gold?"

"He owns the pawnshop and most of the town," he answered, sitting up and shifting until he sat, feet on the couch and legs crossed. "Mom hates him."

She nodded, unsurprised. Regina tended to hate most people, at least as far as the woman she knew was concerned. "He helped you find me?"

"Yeah…" She tilted her head, knowing he had a question of his own as he appeared to be thinking it over. His eyes darted to Regina who looked deep in conversation with David before he returned his attention to her and leaned forward.

"Did—Did I do good?"

She chuckled and placed a hand on his knee, nodding as she reassured him, "You did great, little man."


	2. Chapter 2

Emma reclined against the arm of the sofa and awaited her Queen's return. Regina had disappeared upstairs with their son who had insisted on their full, undivided attention for the rest of the day, which ended once he fell asleep sprawled across their laps while trying to watch a movie. She knew that when Regina re-entered the den, she would expect an explanation for her absence and sequential arrival in Storybrooke.

Throughout the day, she had noticed the hesitation prevalent in Regina's actions and the way she spoke, as though her words were no longer welcomed by her Knight who once hung on each whisper of breath, as if she no longer ached for her touch as she once had.

Her time in this world had changed Emma substantially, but with her memories intact, she knew Regina's fear would never prove a reality. Were it not for a spell of forgetting, she would have travelled to the end of time to be reunited with her Queen, she would have killed and died a thousand times over if it meant finding the woman she loved.

"I know that look."

Her tunnel vision cleared and she shook her head, focusing her gaze on the brunette. "Do you?" she questioned with genuine curiosity. Recent evidence suggested Regina had forgotten just how much she meant to her, and she wouldn't be surprised if the claim proved untrue.

Oblivious to her thoughts, Regina nodded and moved further into the room as she spoke. "It is the same look you had the night you embarrassed me by dropping to a knee…" She paused and straddled Emma's lap before she continued, "…covered in blood—during an execution—and proposed to me in front of an entire square full of peasants."

Memory vivid in her mind, Emma smirked as she nodded; acquiescing to the fact Regina at least remembered some things before she hummed, lips captured in a tender kiss. "Let's not forget the time I handed the head of King George to you on a silver platter," she added when the brunette pulled back.

" _After_ you allowed my army to ransack his Kingdom," Regina deadpanned, causing Emma to chuckle just as she had that day in the throne room. She sighed. "What am I to do with you?"

"Love me," Emma answered without reservation as she grasped slim hips. "Permit me to rid you of your former teacher once and for all so that we may never be parted again."

Head rearing back in shock, Regina did something she had never in her life done before and stuttered, "M—Mister Gold?" She scowled at herself, disgusted with the quake in her voice.

Emma frowned, nostrils flaring in anger at the thought of their son being anywhere near that slimy, good for nothing imp. "That's who he is?"

"You know him?"

"Uh no…" Berating herself for getting side tracked, she mumbled, "I might have… heard of him?"

"From who?"

Emma sighed, keeping one hand on a hip to hold Regina in place as she arched from the sofa and retrieved the letter from her back pocket. "He didn't mention it and I didn't know if it was because he was too excited." She held it out for her and added, "You also hadn't gotten around to asking yet."

Regina examined the envelope warily and took it from between the blonde's fingers. "What is it?"

Shoulders rising in a shrug, Emma said, "Open it and find out." She hoped Henry wouldn't be upset with her, but there really hadn't been any time for the two of them to talk about what he'd done and she wasn't about to keep secrets from his mother, let alone her own wife.

As Regina read the letter, she wore a smile through most of it but the second it fell, Emma knew she had reached the end and braced herself for what she knew was coming. "You're his birth—" Regina cut herself off as realisation dawned and her eyes widened as she shouted, "You cheated on me?"

Emma winced and her hand flew back to a waist as she prevented Regina from climbing off of her. If she was the same woman Emma had known all those years ago, then she knew she couldn't give her time to dwell on a mistake made when she hadn't known who she was. "I wasn't me. The memories, the life I had; it wasn't mine and I didn't know who you were. I dreamed of you—of loving you, of being _happy_ with you—every single night but I had no idea you were even real."

Licking the sudden dryness from her lips, she sat up and leaned in as her hands migrated from waist to cheeks, cupping Regina's face in the palm of her hands. "I felt guilty, the second I remembered what I had done and how much it would hurt you but…"

"But?" Regina spat and a low growl rumbled in her throat. "But what, Emma? What could you possibly think makes it acceptable for you to be unfaithful to me when your memories returned?"

"Henry," Emma murmured, watching as chestnut eyes softened at his name. "You raised my son, Regina—our son. If I knew, I would never have done that to you but now, I can't regret it because I gave you _him_."

With a calming breath, Regina closed her eyes and gave a small nod. For the last ten years, Henry had kept her sane. He had given her a reason to continue on with life when she had almost given up, succumbed to the weight of depression on her shoulders when she woke up one morning with a single question on her mind.

What was the point? Happiness eluded her, and when it hadn't, it had been taken from her by death, abandonment or—in Emma's case—an imp who predicted fate and twisted it to his own purpose.

But Emma was back. She was here, as warm and as beautiful as Regina remembered, and she had proven her love time and time again. Through words, through battles both big and small, Emma had shown the people of Misthaven that someone could—that someone _did_ love the Evil Queen and that she deserved happiness as much as anyone else.

Feeling the tender caress of the hand at her left cheek, she kept her eyes closed and leaned into it. Emma loved her—had from the moment she stumbled across the tower of the White Castle and never in all the years the two were together had she doubted that for a second.

"I love our son," she confessed in a whisper, lips curling as Emma's response came in the form of a mouth pressing to her own with the softest kiss.

In the grand scheme of things, it made no sense for her to remain angered by a betrayal committed when _her_ Emma, when the woman she loved had no control over what this world's Emma had done. Henry meant everything to her and knowing that he held a part of her Knight inside of him—she hadn't thought it possible but it only made her love them both even more.

Acknowledging that simple truth to herself, she let go of what little anger and hurt remained as she opened her eyes to adoring emerald, the expression awaiting her one of patience with a hint of apprehension. She chuckled low and pressed forward, offering understanding and forgiveness in a single kiss.

"I love you," she murmured, sliding a hand about the blonde's neck. "And if your mistakes produce something as beautiful and as thoughtful as our son… then I demand you make them more often."

"Does this mean you'll tell me what happened now?" Emma grinned and Regina nodded, indulging with another kiss before she started to tell the story of how she cast the curse.

_"You!"_

_The vehemence with which she spoke forced Snow to take a step back, eyes wide as she tried to understand. "Me?" She squeaked, stupidly pointing to herself. "Why me, what did I do?"_

_Regina rolled her eyes. "You didn't do anything, idiot." She sighed and dropped down into the plush cushion of her throne as she explained, "The heart of the one I love most isn't an option and apparently Rocinante won't do, so that leaves_ you. _"_

_"You love me?"_

_Releasing a loud groan that said all it needed to, she stared blankly as the White Queen moved closer and she held up a hand, tilting her wrist and extending a finger. "If you're considering hugging me, I would advise against it," she warned, the corner of her mouth twitching._

_Snow stopped inching forward. "I'll do it," she said and Regina raised her eyebrow._

_"Hug me?"_

_With a giggle, Snow shook her head. "I'll give you my heart to cast the curse," she elaborated._

_"No," Regina snapped as her face contorted with a grimace. "Despite popular belief, I am not that selfish. I have lived with heartache all my life; this time will be no different. I could never do that to you, nor David and certainly not to myself."_

_"Have you forgotten what happened last time? Where you ended up and who you became? I trust Rumplestiltskin about as far as I could throw him, but if he says your happiness awaits in this other land then you need to do it; don't let me stand in your way again, Regina."_

_"Foolish, that's what you are," Regina replied, gesturing dismissively. "I refuse to listen to any more of this, go back to your shepherd and leave me in peace."_

Snickering, Emma interrupted the tale. "You didn't honestly think that would work, did you?"

Regina shook her head, a wry grin on her lips. "She somehow manages to surprise, baffle and irritate me at the same time. Though she did leave for a while, but that was only to convince your brother into ganging up on me with her."

_"Would you just listen for a moment?"_

_Spinning on her heel with a scowl, Regina snapped, "No I will not. You and your wife are both idiots and I will not stand around listening to your inane babble and risk my own brain cells deteriorating in the process."_

_When the two stood, mouths gaping, she sniffed unapologetically and turned, marching through the halls away from the two imbeciles as their suggestion continued to flutter around in her mind as if she hadn't already dismissed it._

_She had._

_It was stupid._

_If she weren't running out of synonyms for idiotic, she would have stood there and berated them for much longer._ Honestly, _she groused inside her head._ Who in their right mind would offer their heart for a curse, and then try to make splitting the heart of their true love to sustain both of their lives sound logical?

_"Ridiculous."_

"Let me guess," Emma interrupted once more. "That's exactly what happened."

Regina sighed, head nodding against a shoulder as she admitted, "Exactly that, yes."

She pouted as Emma then chuckled, only to forgive the blonde when she placed a finger beneath her chin and tilted her head up, fitting their lips together in a kiss that would have rivalled their first—if it had been a few seconds longer.

Sighing as they parted, she said, "I realise we have a lot more to talk about…"

"But you're tired," Emma guessed, smiling as she felt another nod. By her count, Regina had yawned at least six times in the last half an hour, so it hadn't taken a genius to figure it out. "Do you want me to carry you to bed, My Queen?"

"Only if you plan on crawling in next to me," she replied, inhaling more of the blonde's scent as she closed her eyes and buried her face in the side of her neck.

"Your wish is my command."

* * *

_"I can't…"_

_"Yes you can," David smiled, placing his hand over the one on his chest. "We want you to be happy and you might not believe in this plan, but believe in us, Regina. No one knows the power of True Love better than you and I. You can do this—we can do this."_

_Taking a shuddered breath, Regina nodded and pushed her hand into his chest. Her fingers wrapped around his heart and for the briefest moment, she could feel the love he had for Emma, for Snow and most of all, for her. "You love me," she gasped, disbelieving even as she felt his heart pulse at the words._

_"You gave my sister_ life _and then you married her," he said with a lopsided grin, reminding her all the more of the woman she lost. "How could I not love you?"_

_"Please don't die," she whispered and his booming laughter brought a soft smile to her lips as she pulled, his heart shifting in his chest as though she were unlocking it before it emerged in the palm of her hand._

_Dropping to her knees beside the woman she once loathed with her very being, she swallowed the doubt she still held that everything would work as the two predicted and cupped the heart with both hands. She closed her eyes, focusing on what she wanted to do and ignoring the fear that bubbled in her chest of what it might do instead as she twisted her wrists._

_Staring down at the two separate pieces in wonder, she blinked as her eyes clouded with tears. Her gaze drifted from her hands to David who had fallen to the ground next to his wife, and then to Snow, remembering as she darted forward and shoved her hands into their chests._

Regina woke with a start, surrounded in warmth with a weight pressing down on her waist. She looked down her body, eyes unseeing as her mind remained blissfully unaware of her conscious state for a few short minutes.

Slowly her awareness sharpened and the weight registered as an arm as fingers flexed at her hip. Lips came next; knowledge that they were slightly parted crossing her mind as she felt the soft puffs of breath hitting the side of her neck.

She turned her head and barely restrained herself from sobbing in relief at the sight that greeted her. Part of her feared it had been nothing more than a dream, that she would once again wake filled with the same dread she had twenty years ago when she thought she'd lost everything.

Turning on to her side, she raised a hand and traced the strong line of a jaw as she marvelled at the realness of flesh beneath her fingertips. Emma was here, in her bed where she could touch to her heart's content and beyond. Revenge would be sweet, but nothing could be sweeter than the return of her Consort, her True Love, and the mother of her son.

Her hand trailed down, down a long slim neck, over a shoulder and down an arm that she remembered all too well. Many nights were spent safely ensconced within their embrace, held in a way that no other had dared since Daniel and even there, compared to her first lost love, Emma was so much more.

Fingers danced over a hip and beneath the covers that hid the lower half of her Knight from view. She smiled as a sharp intake of breath reached her ears, emerald eyes fluttering open to meet her own as a soft moan followed.

Emma reached down, pressing her palm against the hand between her legs and rocking into fingers that stroked through her folds. Heat exploded in her stomach at the look of love reflected in chestnut orbs and she surged forward, devouring lips as a whimper clawed its way up her throat and Regina filled her completely.

Regina rolled to her back and Emma followed, thighs straddling hips as one hand grabbed the back of her neck while the other continued working her toward a release that threatened to overwhelm her at any moment.

She broke the kiss, pushing on to her hands and panting for air that was immediately expelled in a long, low groan of pure bliss as a thumb found her clit and rubbed rough, needy circles until she came, arching her back with a quiet cry of her Queen's name.

"I love you," Regina murmured as Emma collapsed, hand still cupping her sex while the other skirted the length of her back and caressed her spine. "I thought I'd lost everything when I cast this curse. I split David's heart in two just like they said, but when I put each piece inside their chests nothing happened. I thought I'd killed them and the only time I have ever cried as hard as I did then, was the night you went missing without word."

Silence descended for the time it took Emma to regain her breath and when she had, she moved down so that her head rested on Regina's chest, listening to her heart as she spoke. "Rumplestiltskin came to me disguised as one of the guard, said he'd captured a man trying to sneak into the Palace."

She closed her eyes as fingers threaded within her hair and nails scratched at her scalp, the gesture familiar and calming what anger emerged at the memory. "I should have realised what was happening, but I was still upset after our fight and I wasn't thinking clearly. Everything is fuzzy after that but I remember he used something that dampened my magic, something that stopped me from being able to fight him."

"Did he say anything?"

Emma frowned, trying to remember if he had spoken to her at all after returning to his original form. She knew there was something, something about his—"Son," she said. "He mentioned a son… that he needed you to do something that would help find him."

His words from that night came back to her slowly and she lifted her head. "He needed me to remember. If I had come with the curse, I wouldn't remember you and you wouldn't be able to break it."

* * *

Rumple glanced up from his ledger when the door to his shop crashed violently against the wall, eyebrow raised as Regina seethed at him from across the room. "You slimy, manipulative bastard," she spat, storming across the floor with a scowl on her face.

He smirked. "And a good morning to you, dearie," he replied. Upon seeing the blonde enter over her shoulder, he inclined his head. "Miss Swan, glad to see pushing you through that portal didn't kill you."

"Always showing such concern for me, Rupert."

He winced, having gone two decades without hearing that name and he knew she'd caught it when she chuckled, smiling sweetly as she repeated things he had said to her long ago. "Your brother would never approve, she'll never love you—I'm glad you're not dead. It's all very touching, truly but I'm afraid I'm still going to have to kill you."

Having thought they were smarter than that, he tutted with a shake of his head. "If that is why you're here, then I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you both because without me, you'll be trapped in this world forever—no kingdom, no magic, no True Love."

Regina's scowl deepened but his eyes remained fixed to the blonde whose shoulders slumped. "One of these days, I will kill you," she threatened and he smiled, not doubting her for a second.

"Perhaps," he replied, retrieving the box from beneath the counter as he added, "But today? No, today is the day you bring magic back to this charming little world."

* * *

Emma ducked behind a rock, breathes coming in heavy gasps as she turned her head to the side and away from the cone of fire that appeared within inches of where she hid. Without magic, killing a dragon was far more challenging than she remembered it being.

Peering down at the blade in her hand, she rolled her eyes. Against trolls, chimeras and human soldiers, David's sword made sense but to a dragon. Rumplestiltskin was fucking insane. She felt as though she were one of those matadors, waving a giant red cape in front of a bull except this would result in her being roasted alive rather than trampled to death.

"Small mercies," she muttered, pushing from the rock and immediately falling back as another burst of fire swept passed her. "… or not."

Feeling her frustration surface unhelpfully, she shook her head. No magic meant anger would only hinder her and after she promised her Queen that she would try her hardest not to die, it seemed rather counterproductive.

With a last glance to the sword, she silently hoped she wasn't about to make the stupidest mistake of her short life before she darted from cover, rolling to escape another surge of heat and coming to her feet as she launched the sword over her head.

"Ha!" she shouted, sidestepping the small ball of fire that escaped the dragon's throat before the blade pierced the scale and hide of its chest.

She covered her ears with a cringe as a shrill cry filled the air, and when the body fell to the ground, her hands dropped back to her side. She waited until the dust cleared before moving closer, eyes narrowed and searching for the blade to finish the job, eager to return to Regina and possibly punch Rumple in the face.

Twenty years in a world where she wasn't killing someone at every turn, she realised she had grown accustomed to not being splattered with blood regularly and while it brought back good memories, dragon blood was considerably more disgusting than what she was used to. It was thick—heavy and clung to her like the smell of forest to an outlaw.

Once she had the ornate egg in hand, she scowled the entire way back to the lift and as it rose to the ground floor, she was given the once over by her wife who smirked at her obvious bad mood as chestnut eyes came to rest on her own.

"This isn't funny," she stated, her words little more than a whine as she passed Regina the egg and removed her jacket, making a face as something fell from it on to the floor. "Ugh."

Clearing her throat, Regina agreed, "Of course not, dear," and pursed her lips, knowing her voice had given away the fact she sounded as though she meant the exact opposite.

"It isn't," she insisted, pouting as she gestured to the state of her clothes. "This is seriously gross and it's in my _hair_."

Erasing the space between them, Regina hooked her finger through a belt loop and tugged her forward. "Look on the bright side," she purred, pressing a soft kiss to downturned lips before she pulled back and waited.

Eyes narrowed, Emma thought for a moment. "I'm closer to being able to kill Rumple?" she said, shrugging when she was met with a blank stare.

Regina rolled her eyes. "I was thinking of the two us returning home to share a shower, but if you'd rather take comfort elsewhere…"

"Less talking," Emma interrupted, grabbing her by the hips and ignoring the protests about her filthy hands that immediately followed as she turned and steered Regina toward the exit. "More going home and getting naked."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like it put on record that I find the length of these chapters ridiculous. Read on.

After giving in to Regina's assertions that an hour was more than enough time to spend in the shower, Emma was dressed and sitting at the foot of the stairs waiting for the brunette to join her. She was wondering how much longer she would have to wait when she heard the click of heels coming down the hall.

Leaning her elbows on the stair above her, she tilted her head back and grinned as she took in the sight of the long, tanned legs descending. When Regina stopped, she stood with thighs positioned on either side of Emma's head and eyes travelled swiftly upwards. A growl rumbled in the blonde's chest and her mouth watered as she noticed the Queen wore a thong beneath her skirt.

"Jesus," she groaned, forehead pressing to the side of a knee as she brushed her lips over an olive toned calf. "I'd be worried you'd flash someone if that skirt wasn't so tight."

Regina chuckled as Emma stood and she dipped her head to accept the kiss the blonde offered with just a look. "And I'd be worried about starvation, dehydration, parental neglect and the collapse of my town if not for your ability to obey commands," she said as she pulled back with a smirk.

Emma grinned and shrugged, taking her hand as she turned and guided her down the last step before leading her to the foyer where she retrieved her coat and held it open. As Regina slipped it on, Emma nuzzled into her neck and murmured, "I'm still not finished, by the way."

"I suspected as much," Regina replied, hand rising above her shoulder to caress a cheek as she kissed the one opposite. "For now, however, we need to return to the imp and stop in at my office before I take you to lunch."

Resigned to having her plans spoiled, Emma sighed and stepped back. Truth be told, she'd rather extend their reunion and spend the entire day inside, worshipping her Queen until it was time to retrieve Henry from school. Alas, she had been 'whipped' long before she came to this world and discovered the term, and no matter how much time had passed, she would always fall back on being the obedient Knight.

"Lead the way, Your Majesty."

"Don't pout," Regina chided, humour in her voice as she entwined their fingers and tugged the blonde from the house over to the car. "There will be plenty of time for fun _after_ we've acted the responsible adults we're meant to be."

"Ugh," Emma grumbled, dropping into the passenger seat and smiling as her petulance drew a throaty chuckle. She never could help herself.

* * *

Returning the egg to Rumple proved as uneventful as their stop in at the Mayor's office. He refused to tell them any more than he thought they needed to know, merely claiming, "You'll see," when asked how he planned to bring magic to this world and Emma sulked a little on their way to the diner because Regina had stopped her from punching him in the face.

Lunch was somewhat more interesting, at least.

David and Mary-Margaret arrived at the diner not long after they sat down and they accepted Regina's invitation to join them. Mary seemed to know more about Emma than she could have learned from David, and Emma was apparently the only one who found it strange. It wasn't until they were leaving that Regina suggested the curse might be trying to compensate for her arrival in town by providing the residents with memories of her.

Emma had accepted the theory, and the matter was dropped for a time.

While they waited for Henry's school to let out, Regina showed her around town starting at the park where they ran into Archie and Pongo. Emma was thoroughly amused by the dog, as he continuously roped her wife into playing a game of fetch while she tried to converse with his owner. Eventually Regina gave up trying to talk and focused on the dog, while Emma spoke to the cricket-turned-psychiatrist instead.

She hadn't known him all that well back in their old world, and she was surprised to learn Regina visited with him once a week. "I started suffering from depression," she explained when they were alone again. Emma nodded but kept silent. "For some reason the curse had instilled memories within everyone regarding my love of children and it was him who suggested I adopt."

"I'm glad he did that," she murmured when Regina said nothing further. "That you found some happiness."

Emma knew there were worse reasons to have a child, like using them as meal tickets, as was the case when it came to a majority of the foster parents she'd had. She shook her head and reminded herself that most of the memories she had weren't real. She never had foster parents. She had real parents. Her father died in the war and her mother—she had looked after her and David until she passed some years ago.

 _Decades_ , she corrected. It had been decades ago.

She grimaced.

"Something you'd like to share?"

Squeezing the hand in her own, Emma smiled faintly. "I'm having a little difficulty separating fiction from reality. There are a lot of memories that don't… make sense, I guess." She paused. "It's not important."

Regina forced them to a stop and turned to face her. "If it's bothering you then it's important," she said. "You can talk to me, if you think it might help."

"I honestly don't know what will help," Emma confessed. "I keep remembering things; siblings I never had, growing up on the street after I ran away from one home at fifteen. The life this world's Emma had was awful and what's worse is that there are… blanks I can't fill in."

"What do you mean?"

"Well you said it's been twenty years, right?" Regina nodded and Emma explained, "Twelve years ago this Emma was in Phoenix celebrating her twenty-second birthday—I proposed to you when I was twenty three."

Retreating a step, Regina tilted her head and smirked. "Now that you mention it, you certainly don't look to be in your forties."

"Because I'm not," Emma sighed. "As far as my memories are concerned, I'm only thirty-four. I'm missing ten years of my life, Regina."

"Why didn't you say anything earlier? You could have asked Rumple about it."

Emma laughed. "What makes you think he'd tell the truth if I had asked? For all we know this is another part of his plan and he doesn't _want_ me to remember."

"Fair point," Regina conceded, jaw clenching in anger at the thought. "I still think you should ask next time we see him. You'll at least know if he's lying, you've always been able to tell when someone does."

"I'll think about it," she replied. She knew by the narrowing of her eyes that Regina wanted to say something more but her lips remained pursed in restraint, and after a moment of silence, brunette locks shook before Regina turned and started them moving.

Their second destination was the docks, where Emma was hit with a brief sense of déjà vu. It wasn't a feeling she understood and one she chalked up to being something she probably remembered that hadn't been real.

Regina had noticed the pause in her step, but kept the observation to herself. Emma never had been one who liked to share, preferring to act as though nothing were capable of fazing her because she thought it made her appear strong. It was perhaps the one thing about her that Regina absolutely _loathed_ with every fibre of her being. Not that she ever said anything, as her own stubbornness could rival the blonde's and she didn't want it known that she was a hypocrite.

Feigning ignorance was a skill she picked up after months of trying to persuade Emma to talk about herself during the first year of their relationship. After one fight too many, she had simply given up trying and learned a week later that waiting was the best course of action.

Well, best course of action wasn't entirely accurate as it generally involved Emma blowing up over the smallest incident but Regina liked to deal in silver linings rather than technicalities. If yelling resulted in Emma talking to her, then she suffered the inconvenience willingly. It was at least preferable to being given the cold shoulder when she tried to order her to speak.

"This is nice."

Emerging from her thoughts, Regina smiled as she turned her head. They had left the docks and were walking along the beach, a slight breeze ruffling golden curls and the smell of the ocean in the air. Emma looked radiant and Regina's heart swelled in her chest.

"Come on," she murmured upon realising she was staring, weaving their arms together and leading Emma back to the car. "Our son doesn't like to be kept waiting."

"Sounds familiar," Emma responded, grinning.

* * *

Regina froze as she turned after exiting the car. As luck would have it, it wasn't Henry who awaited them at the gate. Caught up in the happiness she'd had from having Emma with her again, she'd forgotten all about _him_. Her mood shifted from anticipation of seeing her son and the night the three of them would have, to dread of Emma learning who the man was.

Emma was possessive. She was loving, caring, protective and thoroughly selfless, but possessive. It was a trait that had drawn the Evil Queen to her in the first place, as well as the ruthlessness she displayed in battle. Such traits, however, were extremely out of place in this world and she could not only imagine the kind of damage Emma could do to the Deputy, she could picture it vividly in her mind.

When Emma passed the hood of the car, Regina darted forward and snatched her by the hand, yanking her back.

"What…"

Emma pulled free and spun on her heel, eyebrow raised in question as Regina swallowed, searching her brain for the words to explain. We went on a date, she thought, once—before she realised Emma would forever be on her mind and she ended whatever was between them despite fate claiming they were a perfect match.

She huffed. Saying _that_ would have Emma tearing across the road, and then tearing his head from his shoulders. She shook her head.

"That man," she said, nodding in the direction of Robin Hood. Emma glanced over her shoulder.

"What of him?"

Regina stared, hoping the next words from her wife's mouth weren't threats of gory violence. She fisted Emma's collar and tugged her forward, claiming said mouth in a kiss she prayed reaffirmed all she felt—the love, the adoration and appreciation she had now that her Knight was back where she belonged.

When she released her, Emma blinked, breathing through her nose and swaying in place before she stabilised herself with a hand against the driver side door of the Mercedes. "Um," she started. "Not that I'm complaining but—"

"We dated," Regina blurted the interruption, not giving Emma a second to catch up as she hurried to explain. "It was only once because I never thought I'd see you again, but I ended it long before you came back and… he keeps trying to woo me but I've turned him down every time since."

Running out of steam and lacking anything more than words to convince Emma she was telling the truth, she fell silent, her gaze pleading for understanding from the blonde who merely stared back at her with a blank expression.

"I'm sorry," she added after another moment, looking down at her feet as she pulled her lower lip between teeth. She may not have slept with him and given birth nine months later, but unlike Emma, she'd still had her memories when she allowed him to wine and dine her—when she let him _kiss_ her that night on her doorstep.

She was snapped from her self-induced guilt when Emma finally spoke.

"Okay," she said quietly, lifting Regina's head up with a finger beneath her chin. "What do you want me to do here?"

Regina frowned and asked, "You're not upset?"

"A little," she admitted. "More jealous that he got to take you on a date before I did, though."

With a disbelieving chuckle, Regina replied, "We're married, dear."

"Well yes." Emma grinned, shrugging as she reasoned, "Dating wasn't a thing in our world though—unless you count all those times you sat at my side while I bathed."

Matching her grin with one of her own, a perfectly sculpted eyebrow rose in challenge as Regina said, "Well you _were_ removing the blood of my enemies."

"True," she agreed, shaking her head at the amused gleam in chestnut eyes. "Who needs fancy restaurants and romantic gestures when you have me?"

"Indeed."

Catching sight of their son among the crowd of children making their way to the gate, Regina grasped Emma's hand, glancing both ways down the street before she crossed to meet him. She stopped beside Robin and inclined her head in greeting, watching as his eyes travelled to the blonde and his smile faltered around the edges.

Emma ignored him entirely, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand before she released Regina and walked over to their son, crouching down as he immediately began talking and shoving bits of paper at her. She couldn't stop herself from smiling as Emma's chuckle reached her ears, not that she wanted—or even tried to.

"Do you ever wander what life would have been like if she hadn't recovered?"

Opening her mouth to respond, Regina's jaw snapped shut before she could speak as her mind was assaulted with images.

_Regina clasped a hand over her mouth, stifling the sob in the back of her throat as she watched the EMTs attempt to resuscitate her wife. Blood, there was so much blood. Her body shook with the effort to hold back her scream and she inhaled sharply as she felt a hand on her forearm._

_"I can drive you," Robin offered and she blinked, eyes widening as she realised Emma was being moved to the ambulance. She tore from his hand and stumbled forward, demanding she be allowed to accompany them to the hospital. Both of the men hesitated but nodded their heads when she scowled._

Regina gasped, feeling the tears sliding down her cheeks as she was thrown into another memory.

_Emma had been shot twice, once in the stomach while the second one had barely missed her heart. After surgery, she'd slipped into a coma that none of the doctors could explain and months passed in a haze before she received the phone call from Doctor Whale, telling her that her wife was awake._

_Three months prior, Regina had found out who was responsible and delighted in crushing his heart in the palm of her hand. It had been Graham, their former Sheriff. Emma was a deputy at the time and she'd caught him ransacking Regina's vault when she tried to bring him in. He'd shot her for it._

_Robin had pieced it all together._

_Emma was the Sheriff now._

"What the fuck did you do?"

"Nothing!" Robin sputtered, stumbling back as Emma advanced on him. "I asked her a question that was it, I swear," he explained as she grabbed him by the shirt and raised her fist.

"Emma," Regina called and the blonde paused, her grip loosening enough for Robin to free himself as she glanced over her shoulder. "It wasn't his fault." She looked to Henry who stood with his mouth agape as she added, "and you're scaring our son."

Her anger deflated faster than Regina had ever seen, and if she weren't concerned by the obvious disappointment in herself that she could see in Emma's eyes, it would have been at least a little humorous. Emma had often struggled with the emotion; it was something the two of them shared from the very start and something they had even bonded over.

She recalled the days where Emma would rant and rave about this and that after sneaking up to the tower to speak to her, when the Knight wasn't off fighting one battle or another in the name of Snow White. She had fought for Leopold first, a soldier of the King's army who sided with Snow when Regina took control of the Kingdom. She was the reason David found his True Love when she introduced the two and somehow convinced their mother to harbour the former Princess.

Emma had also been the one who captured the Evil Queen, locking her in the tallest tower of the White Kingdom to keep her out of the way while they fought King George. Throughout it all, Regina had learned much about the blonde and had started to teach her of the magic she possessed but couldn't control.

After eight months of captivity, in which prisoner and jailer had developed an odd sort of friendship, Emma appeared one night with the head of King George—a truce, she explained. It was no secret that Regina despised the man and in exchange for her promise to no longer attempt taking Snow White's life, Emma swore to become her Champion.

Over the period of two years, Emma became the most meaningful person in her life. Regina was still the Evil Queen, still unnecessarily cruel but Emma had accepted her. She followed her commands without question—she made the Evil Queen fall in love when she had thought love would continue to elude her.

She softened her.

Anger was a strong theme throughout most of their relationship and not once, in the six years of knowing one another had Emma ever let go as fast as she had at the mention of scaring their son.

Moving until she stood before her, Regina cupped Emma's face in the palm of her hands and placed a tender kiss against her lips. "I will explain what happened later," she promised. "But thank you."

Emma gave an uncertain smile but when she nodded, Regina dismissed the desire to continue reassuring her and turned to Robin. "I suggest forgetting such thoughts because next time, you won't have the benefit of my interference."

His throat bobbed and he bowed his head with a murmured, "Of course, Madam Mayor."

Slipping her middle finger beneath the waistband of Emma's jeans, she placed a hand to the back of Henry's head and nudged him forward, tugging the blonde along behind them as they passed the deputy without further comment.

* * *

Elbow on the counter and with chin in hand, Emma watched as Regina flittered about the kitchen. Last night, with all the excitement that distracted them, Regina had lost track of time and had resigned herself to takeout being the first meal the three of them shared. Tonight, however, she insisted on a home cooked meal and while Emma wasn't particularly picky about the things she ate, she was more than content to go along with it.

She doubted their reasoning was at all similar but if the smile he wore was any indication, Henry seemed to agree with the thought as he busied himself with homework while listening to his brunette mother hum to herself.

The domesticity of it all made Emma grin stupidly, more so because when Regina noticed her happy expression, she blind-sided Emma with a kiss that had the three of them laughing when Henry looked up with his exclamation of, "Gross," and his mothers decided he must feel left out as they proceeded to smother him.

That ended more than ten minutes ago, yet Emma's grin remained. Watching Regina cook reminded her of all the times they snuck through the halls of the Palace at night when the servants had retired, descending on the kitchens to gorge themselves because a Queen and her Consort were expected to keep up appearances even while dining and often barely touched the meals served to them.

A lot of her bad habits had rubbed off on Regina—the humming, for instance. Emma used to do it all the time, mostly because she knew it drove her crazy and often resulted in clothes being torn off just so she would stop and _focus on being less annoying_ , as Regina often said.

Regina's head whipped around as Emma chuckled and their eyes met. "Remember our first ball?" she asked, grin turning impish as cheeks reddened visibly.

It was the first time she learned just how infuriating the Queen thought humming to be and when she'd caught on to the reason she'd been shoved through the nearest door out of sight of the guests, she had thoroughly abused the knowledge.

"Distinctly," was the quiet, vaguely husked admission that caused another chuckle. Regina tilted her head, giving Emma a look that said _behave_ before she returned her attention to the pots on the stove.

When dinner was served, the three sat at the dining table with Henry talking a mile a minute. Both Emma and Regina indulged him, asking him about his day, teasing him when he mentioned one of the girl's in his class. It was all perfectly quaint, which Emma found odd without the involvement of her sister-in-law.

It felt good, spending time together without any immediate concerns hanging over their heads, and especially without all the pomp that came from being a royal. Had someone tried to tell her she'd be sitting around, stress free and sharing a quiet night in with her ten-year old son and her wife all those years ago, she would have laughed in their face.

The Black Knight didn't do quiet, nor did the Evil Queen and the thought of children had been nothing more than a passing thing, talked about in their chamber as Regina fell asleep in her arms, forgotten the next morning when duty called. Their days were filled with routine, interspersed every now and then with grand balls where pompous noblemen and women acted more important than they were while Regina pretended to care about them.

Fighting preoccupied Emma most of the time. After dealing with George, the truce signing between Regina and Snow, and the minor inconsequential uprising of the peasants once they'd discovered Snow had released the Evil Queen—well, life slowed down for her but not nearly enough for a moment like this.

When they were done, Emma rose to clear the table and gestured for Regina to sit back down as she sauntered off to the kitchen, returning in time to overhear Henry confront his mother. "Hey Mom?"

"Yes dear?" Regina smiled, noticing Emma hovering in the doorway before she turned to him with a curious expression.

He sucked his lower lip thoughtfully, hesitant and unsure. "Now that Emma is here," he began. "Does this mean you'll break the curse and we'll go back to the Enchanted Forest where I can learn to use a sword and ride horses?"

Looking to the blonde, Regina could see by the way Emma was biting her lip that she was trying not to laugh and she knew that she wasn't about to be offered assistance. She cleared her throat, buying herself a little time to think it over.

Having read his letter, she should have known something like this would surface. Truthfully, she _had_ known, she just didn't expect it to come quite so soon though she knew she would have to tell him before Rumple completed whatever he needed to, to bring magic into the world.

Eventually, she settled for asking a question of her own. "Is that what you want?"

He nodded, no longer cautious with his words as he replied, "I'd be a Prince! You could teach me magic and Emma could show me how to fight; it'd be cool."

"It would be a lot of hard work," she warned, grinning at his enthusiasm but all too aware of the simplistic views of children. "You'd need to learn the history, proper etiquette and if you really want to learn magic, it involves _a lot_ of reading."

"I like reading."

Joining them back at the table, Emma smirked as she leaned back in her chair. "You'd have a strict schedule— magic, swordplay, riding; it's not as fun as you might think."

His expression changed, from childish enthusiasm to serious determination and this time, Emma didn't bother to hold in the laugh. He reminded her so much of Regina in that moment.

"I can do it," he told them and Emma and Regina glanced to one another, amused but proud. Emma inclined her head encouragingly as she noted the question in dark eyes and Regina sighed softly.

"Very well," she said. "If my little Prince wants the curse broken, then he shall have it."


	4. Chapter 4

_Emma woke to the sound of pouring rain and smiled, rolling on to her side and pulling the furs wrapped about her body tighter as she registered the chill in the air from the open window. For once, she had nowhere to be; there were no battles to be fought, no nobles to please and no intrusive sister-in-law to come barging in to her room demanding one thing or another._

_Burrowing deeper into her feather pallet, she released a content sigh and closed her eyes. As a soldier in the King's Guard, sleep had been a luxury since she enlisted and if ever there were a time to catch up; this was it._

_Her throat vibrated with a hum, the scent and sound of the rain lulling her back to a dreamless sleep._

_"Emma?"_

Knew that was too good to be true _, she thought as she cracked an eye open. Across the room, a face glowed in the ornate mirror above her scribe table and she sighed. She supposed she should be grateful he had stopped calling her Lady Swan. "What does she want now?"_

_His lips twitched, amusement clear as day on his face before he cleared his throat and his expression changed to something bordering serious. "She has requested your attendance at court," he informed, smirking when she scowled._

_If she despised one thing above all else, it was standing still for an unspecified amount of time while ungrateful peasants endlessly complained—and the Queen damn well knew it. Some days she longed for the simplicity of the farm where she could stay in bed until noon, the aroma of her mother's cooking filling the house while her brother mucked around outside taking care of the animals._

_Both eyes open, she sat up and rubbed a hand over her face as she yawned. Maybe she would get to kill someone today, shine that Evil Queen reputation up a bit since her imprisonment. "How do you think she'd take me telling her to shove it and going back to sleep?"_

_"I imagine she'd be delighted," he replied casually. "It's been a while since she last tortured anyone."_

_Emma sighed. "Fine," she conceded, throwing off the furs and standing from the bed with a look to the window. "Tell her royal pain in the ass I'm on my way."_

_He inclined his head and disappeared the second she finished speaking, leaving her to mutter her curses in peace as she dressed. She skipped the plate armour the Queen had 'gifted' her with, settling for the leather jerkin she favoured and grabbing her sword from where it rested against the wall before she too disappeared._

_Reappearing behind the Queen who sat upon her throne, she smirked when the man who'd been speaking stopped suddenly, a sound of surprise stuck in his throat as he gaped._

_"Champion," Regina greeted without so much as a glance in her direction. "I need you to settle a dispute for me."_

_"Yay me," Emma muttered low enough so that only the Queen heard as she stepped forward and raised her voice. "Let me guess, he lost some of his treasured sheep to the floods and expects the Crown to compensate his loss."_

_"Well I know who not to call on when I need a seer," Regina declared, tongue clucking against the roof of her mouth in disappointment. Emma rolled her eyes. "He's a Hunter, not a Farmer; and he was caught poaching but claims he was unaware of my laws regarding the forest's creatures."_

_With a grimace, Emma drew her sword and descended the stairs of the dais to stand before the man knelt upon the floor. "I'd advise you learn the laws of the land before plying your trade but it appears I'm too late for that," she said and with the quick stroke of her sword, his head toppled to the floor._

_As the room filled with sounds of outrage, Emma summoned a cloth to her hand and wiped down the blade before she returned it to its sheath at her hip._

_Turning as the cloth vanished into the ether; she calmly climbed the stairs and resumed her place at the Queen's side._

_"Perhaps I was wrong about you," Regina commented, gesturing for two of the guard to remove the man's body as the servants appeared to clean up the mess and she turned her attention to the crowd. "Court dismissed."_

_"I swore fealty to you," Emma responded, voice purposely blank despite her annoyance. "I'm a soldier through and through, and my loyalty is unquestionable; the only thing these tests prove is that you need a hobby."_

_"Careful," Regina warned, brushing the creases from the skirts of her dress as she stood. "You're overstepping, Champion; I would hate to have to punish you."_

_Emma smirked and leaned forward, close enough to murmur in her ear. "Had I not sworn fealty, we both know you wouldn't have that pleasure either," she reminded, releasing a chuckle as the Queen jerked, turning just as Emma departed in a cloud of smoke._

"What did she do?"

Emma blinked, pulled back to the present by the inquisitive voice of her son. Regina looked to her in that moment, but her gaze was fixed on the little boy peering up at his brunette mother from beneath the black and yellow duvet.

"I did what was expected," she answered and turned to her Queen, all the conviction she could muster in her voice as she added, "And should she ever command me to do so again, I would without question."

He frowned. "Shouldn't you be equals? Aren't you married?"

One of Regina's eyebrows rose and Emma laughed, the question catching them both off guard. In most cases, it would be true but in hers, Consort was nothing more than a title that appeased the nobles of their time. She had married for love, nothing more and though in some regards she _was_ equal to Regina, she would always be a Knight first and foremost.

"We are," she confirmed, smiling as she felt a warm hand sliding into her own. "The thing you need to understand is that I was a soldier, I knew nothing else and I had never wanted more for myself; following orders was what I did. I married your mother because I fell in love with her, not because I wanted special treatment. The only difference between me and any other of her Knights is that she fell in love with me back."

When Henry glanced to her side and grinned, Emma couldn't resist turning her head. Her lips quirked with a grin of their own at the sight of the pleased smile Regina wore, chestnut eyes shining bright with unabashed happiness and she darted forward, bestowing plump lips with a brief kiss.

Before either registered movement, an arm wrapped around each of their shoulders as Henry launched himself between them in an impromptu hug and Regina seemed to light up further, returning the embrace without hesitation.

Emma on the other hand, froze before gingerly placing a hand on his back. Moments like this were rare for her. For the longest time, her mother and brother had been the only people she allowed to touch her beyond a firm handshake in greeting, or a congratulatory pat on the back from one soldier to another when a battle went in their favour.

It was…

Nice?

 _Enough of this weirdness_ , she mused quietly. "Love of my life," she murmured softly, meeting the adoring gaze of her wife over the head of their son. "Tell him how we met—officially."

Regina smirked, shaking her head as they coaxed Henry into lying back down before she started to tell him of the Evil Queen whose revenge fell short when compared to the stubborn, quick wit of her favourite blonde nuisance.

* * *

_"Majesty, the reports from the east are… unusual," a voice said. Lionel, Regina noted the man's name absently as she looked up from her wine and gestured for him to continue. "There are rumours of a woman who fights at the side of the King, who wields magic and weapon with equal mastery. It is said that King George has wasted countless lives in an attempt to rid them of this woman."_

_Regina sighed and silenced him with a wave of her hand. Her men had spoken of the woman at night, when their whispered complaints were thought to be safe from her ears. This woman had been a thorn in her side long since before the war began, and she was beginning to realise, perhaps a little too late, that she was destined to forever lose to this unknown._

_Something in her gut told her she knew who it was, a niggling memory in the back of her mind that had eluded her all this time._

_Stretching her neck, she stood and glanced around at those gathered. Useless, every single one of them. Her fingers flexed at her side, anger simmering as always beneath the surface just waiting for its chance. "Send the Heartless," she ordered. "And bring me Snow White's head before I decide to take all of yours instead."_

"Wait," Henry interrupted, his voice laden with sleep. "I thought Snow White was your friend?"

Regina smiled indulgently down at him, smoothing a hand through his hair as she explained, "Our friendship came at a price I had yet paid, but that is a story for another time."

He nodded. "When did you meet ma?"

"That very same night," she replied, smirking as Emma's chuckle sounded and she leaned in to the warmth pressing against her side. "Soon, my Prince."

_Torches flared in front of her as those behind darkened with her passing. Regina stalked through the palace, a predatory gleam in her eyes that warned those in her service against approaching her. She half-hoped one would, merely so she would have the pleasure of feeling their life fade beneath the iron grip of her hand._

_Turning the corner that would lead to her chambers, a small flutter of relief made itself known in the pit of her stomach and her back released a small knot of tension as she noted the empty hall stretched before her. For all her anger and the darkness of her thoughts, all she had wanted was the comfort of her bed despite knowing the nightmares that awaited her in sleep._

_The doors to her chambers flew open with the simple flick of her wrist and she relaxed further, the thud of them closing behind her providing a sense of safety and a promise of time to be alone without the reminder of her constant failure reflected in the eyes she surrounded herself with._

_"Took you long enough."_

_Startled, Regina tried to summon a fireball to her fingertips and only then did she realise she was frozen from the shoulders down. She turned her head, rage replacing the surprise as she caught sight of the woman leaning against the wall._

_There were… flashes—of blonde curls and sparkling emerald eyes, of a bright smile and a light laugh. Faced with the woman who had caused so much trouble for her men and for herself, Regina remembered the first time her plan to off Snow White had backfired._

_"You," she sneered, not a single doubt in her mind of who this person was. Snapping her fingers, she dispelled the magic encasing her and raised her hand._

_"You don't want to do that," the blonde warned, straightening from the wall._

_"Oh I assure you," Regina said. "I most certainly do." She released the magic that had built in her fists, palms facing forward as a blast of wind swept forward and slammed the blonde back against the wall with a sickening crack._

_A choked laugh and flash of teeth was all the warning she had before the blonde lunged, her weight sending Regina to the floor with relative ease. She seethed, anger surging and lashing out. Her first attack was true, the gasp beside her ear proof of that and she readied herself to strike again, ignoring the pinch of her wrist as she rolled out from under the blonde and stood._

_"I will destroy you if it is—" She paused, no longer feeling the tingle at the tips of fingers and she glanced down, expression contorting in a mix of surprise, confusion and unmistakable anger._

_Her hand reached for the leather cuff and she pulled, growling when all her effort and strength proved worthless in removing it from her wrist. She snarled, "What did you do to me?"_

_"I bound your magic," the blonde explained, rising to her feet with a pained grunt. "I warned you, I didn't want to do that; I only wanted to talk."_

_"Perhaps you should have thought about that before you ambushed me in my chamber," Regina spat and lurched forward, a proud sneer on her lips, relishing the widening of eyes as she grabbed the woman by her throat and spun, slamming her back into the wall._

_The struggle she yearned for, however, was short-lived. The body relaxed under her hand and those eyes stared, resignation swirling within. So caught up in studying the surrender, she failed to heed the prickling of hair on the back of her neck and found herself suddenly launched back._

_Bracing for impact, she berated herself for forgetting the blonde had magic of her own. Motion stopped and she felt the softness beneath her, confusion returning once more as she looked down and realised the woman had prevented her injury and placed her on the settee._

_Sensing movement, she raised her head and watched as the blonde took the seat across from her. "I didn't come here to hurt you," she informed the Queen, seemingly unperturbed by her glare as she continued. "You have a vendetta against Snow White and thought this war between her and George was an opportunity too good to pass up but the way I see it, you're losing and while I'm around, that isn't going to change."_

_"Then I suppose killing you is at the top of my priority list," Regina sneered and the blonde smiled, fuelling her anger. "If you expect to negotiate with me for that wretch's life, you're wasting your time."_

_"Truly?" Regina simply continued to glare in response and the woman sighed. "Then I suppose you leave me no choice," she said, standing and moving faster than should be possible._

_"For crimes against her Majesty, Queen Snow; I, Emma Swan, Champion to King David am placing you, Queen Regina under arrest," Emma announced._

_Regina almost laughed but in a swirl of smoke, she was banished from her chambers and instead of those piercing emerald eyes, her glare settled on the iron bars of her new prison cell._

Ending the tale, Regina smiled down at the image before her. Emma had lain down sometime during the story next to their son, who had taken advantage of the new position and draped himself across his other mother. Her heart swelled with affection for the two loves in her life, a moment of pure happiness embracing her from head to toe in body tingling warmth, drowning those less desirable emotions in a sea of simple adoration she wished she could hold on to forever.

Unfortunately, life rarely coincided with her plans and as she felt the muscles in her legs stiffen from their folded position, she slowly forced herself to stand and rouse Emma from sleep. The blonde mumbled, her words unintelligible but the typical response caused Regina to give an amused chuckle.

The sound, of course, proved far more successful in waking Emma and Regina smiled down at her, leaning down and placing hands on either side of Emma's head as she pressed their lips together. She pulled back with a sigh after a few seconds, and grinned when Emma stared up at her from beneath hooded lids, mouth drawn into a pout.

"Stop that," she chided quietly, but continued to smile. "I'm going to bed, so if you'd like to join me you may wish to do something about that sudden growth you have," she said, head inclined toward the smaller body on top of her.

Emma frowned and looked down, and Regina shook her head upon realising the blonde hadn't been alert enough to notice. "Idiot," she murmured teasingly, hand curling around a shoulder and gently easing Henry onto his back as Emma sat up.

* * *

The next morning, Emma woke with a comforting weight pressing her down into the mattress and she opened her eyes. She spotted the sheet Regina had draped across them during the night pooled down by their waists and she grinned, running her hands along the smooth, olive back left bared with the loss. It was, she conceded, a bright start to what promised to be a long, dull day doing a job she had absolutely zero interest in doing.

A mouth nuzzled the crook of her neck and a soft murmur of protest reminded her of the current situation, and the fact her hands had stilled. She wrinkled her nose, a final, silent objection to her new status of employment as she resumed her caresses and waited.

Most days, Regina awakened a lot slower than she did and she was glad that hadn't changed. Of course, the things that kept them apart, that made these quiet moments in the morning so special in their old world likely wouldn't factor into their time but that didn't mean she couldn't still appreciate them just the same.

"You still do that," Regina complained. Emma tilted her head, eyebrow raised. " _Thinking_ ," she elaborated grumpily. "You just woke up, what could possibly distract you this much?"

Without a second's consideration, Emma allowed her eyes to travel slowly down their entwined bodies before her gaze returned to chestnut orbs and her eyebrow rose once more. In a rare display, Regina's cheeks flushed adorably and Emma grinned, wrapping her arms and legs about the brunette in case she had the thought to try and escape.

Regina wriggled but only a little, enough to bring their mouths together, to steal Emma's ability to think at all for a time as she gave in to those wonderful lips and the feelings Regina invoked effortlessly with her kisses.

"Oh!" Emma forced them apart prematurely, and then noticed the glare she received as she smiled apologetically. "Sorry, I just remembered I need to quit my job."

Deciphering the somewhat confused and exasperated look correctly, she explained, "Not Sheriff—though I'm not overly fond with that decision—I had a job in Boston that I kept in case… well, for obvious reasons."

"And this was more important than kissing because…?"

Emma chuckled, lifting her head to peck pouted lips before she dropped back to the pillow. "There is nothing in the world more important than your kisses," she confessed. "But I should probably do something about that before someone takes an interest in my sudden disappearance—also the lease..."

She trailed off as Regina continued to stare in exasperation, the confusion within the expression having morphed into frustration by that point and she pursed her lips, acknowledging the unspoken command to shut up before Regina questioned, "Do you suppose these things can wait until _after_ I've had an orgasm?"

"Uh…" Emma mentally smacked herself over the head and flashed a lopsided grin as she released her hold on the brunette and suggested, "Shower?"

Regina smirked. "Shower," she repeated, lowering her head to claim another kiss before she climbed from the bed and sauntered over to the bathroom.

Emma rolled her eyes with a murmured, "Idiot," to herself as her feet hit the floor and she followed obediently.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops. Posted this on FFNET like 2 days ago and forget to do it here too... I'm a butt, I know.

With a sharp intake of breath, Regina's eyes snapped open and she was met with darkness. Her head rolled to the side, a tear slipping down her cheek as she read the glaring red digits of her alarm before she released a shuddered sigh and returned her gaze to the ceiling. The new nightmares were going to take some getting used to.

She lay there for a few minutes, listening to the sound of the blonde's breathing next to her as images played like a movie reel inside her head. How many times had she watched Emma almost die in their land? Counting the assassination attempts, border skirmishes and constant attacks from ogres and the like—too many, she supposed.

This time wasn't all that different.

Instead of wounds from a sword or the less common threats of deadly poison, she was dealing with bullets, which were a far better sight than the former. There wasn't even that much blood, at least not now that she wasn't being blindsided by the false memories. She still hadn't given Emma the details of how the curse was including her, but the risk of being Sheriff was extremely minimal despite them. Really, the nightmares were more of an annoyance than actual concern but…

She stroked the arm across her stomach and turned into the warmth of her Knight, burying her head in the crook of a neck as the last of the images faded from her mind. She would have to tell Emma. It wouldn't do to have someone surprising the blonde the way Robin did her, nor would she be able to keep her nightmares hidden for long.

* * *

_"Is that ale?"_

_Emma grinned, setting a tankard down in front of the pirate as she sat across the table from him and sipped from her own. He clasped the tankard with his one good hand, downing the whole thing in one go before slamming it back down with a wink. "My second greatest weakness," he sighed wistfully._

_"There's a tramp over in the corner if you want the first," she commented, smirking when he pouted and feigned hurt._ Silly manwhore _, she mused quietly to herself._

_"You wound me, love," he said._

_"I could," she offered with an innocent flutter of lashes._

_He laughed, shaking his head. "I don't doubt that," he replied before he called to a passing serving wench, who refilled his tankard as his attention returned to her. "So…" he started. "This person you're searching for, what's his name?"_

_"Baelfire," she answered, tilting her head at the flash of recognition in his eyes. "You know him."_

_"Aye," he confirmed the statement. "I know him. Question is; how do you?"_

_She frowned. Truth was she didn't know him. Waking on the shore, all she remembered was a name along with feeling a strong urge to find the one it belonged to and no reason as to why. Her memories were vague, hazy as though she'd woken not too long ago from a drunken stupor._

_"I don't," she replied honestly, knowing it wouldn't do any good to lie if she expected anyone to help her. "Here's the thing, I'm having a hard time remembering much of anything aside from his name and I was hoping maybe he might be able to tell me why that is."_

_Brow furrowed in thought, he questioned, "You think he messed with your pretty little head?"_

_Did she think that, she wondered. She shook her head after a moment; the thought felt wrong for some reason. "No but I'm thinking someone has," she said, "and he might know who."_

_He nodded and drained his tankard once more before he spoke. "You do know you're asking after the son of the Dark One, aye?"_

Emma jolted awake, blinking hard as she tried to grasp the tendrils of her dream. She shifted, and then stilled as she realised she was being clung to as though she were a lifeline in the midst of a raging sea.

Regina?

Pulling her head back to see, her senses filled with familiarity and she frowned. She raised a hand and cupped the brunette's cheek, caressing the beautiful face contorted in pain as she leaned in, rousing her Queen from wherever her mind had taken her in sleep as she pressed kisses to skin while avoiding her lips.

Regina stirred, arm flexing against her back and then Emma felt the hand grab her hip. She smiled, kissing eyelids that fluttered open as she continued down and finally claimed her mouth, humming her pleasure when the response she received was far more than she expected and Regina urged her to roll on to her back.

Her stomach warmed as thighs clamped down on her sides and a tongue slipped into her mouth. _Just like old times_. She inwardly sighed in contentment and wrapped Regina in her arms, enjoying the closeness as long as she could before the brunette did the inevitable and forced them to start the day because, unlike old times, this was the Mayor of Storybrooke with a flawless routine and not the Queen who forced her subjects to plan their days around _her_.

It sucked when she was right but as Regina lay down and their bodies fit perfectly together, she realised that this time she was wrong, and it definitely did not suck in the least.

Fingers threaded through her hair and she moaned as they began a gentle massage of her scalp. She closed her eyes and a thigh fell between her own to rest against her sex as the kiss changed, becoming less intense now that Regina had found her comfort, no longer fueled by hunger but a playful desire to tease and indulge in her Knight.

Emma recognised the mood and accepted her role willingly, placing her hands in the small of Regina's back as she willed her body to relax, to allow the pleasure her wife wanted to bestow upon her. It didn't happen often, as Regina preferred a more equal approach to their lovemaking, but when it did Emma knew the general reasoning behind it and she made a mental note to inquire at a later time before she surrendered completely.

* * *

Pushing her plate aside, Regina picked up her cup and sipped the lukewarm beverage within with a slight grimace. Her mind flickered toward home and the morning she'd had with her family before the three of them departed for work and school respectively, the thoughts bringing with them a brief wish that her Knight would appear.

Regina chuckled softly with a bemused shake of her head. Twenty years was nowhere near enough time to adapt to sub-par coffee but Emma, oh Emma could do such magical things with a coffee machine.

 _Should have made her a Barista, not the Sheriff,_ she thought and grimaced again for a whole other reason. _Bastard curse._ If Rumplestiltskin didn't get a move on and enact whatever plan he had to bring magic back, she was going to march down to the pawnshop and throttle the imp with her bare hands. She might even call her wife beforehand so the blonde could watch.

Emma would love that, of which she had no doubt.

The bell above the door to the diner chimed and Regina looked up, smiling as David entered and flashed her one of his dopey grins that she had come to find oddly heart-warming—something she blamed Emma for, naturally. How she managed to love not one but three idiots was a conundrum she'd stopped trying to understand years ago.

She watched him stroll over to the counter and say a few words to Ruby before he turned, and she inclined her head in an offer that he accepted immediately as he walked over and slid in to the opposite side of her booth.

"Mayor Mills." Regina rolled her eyes, as was expected of her, and then fixed him with a blank stare to which he grinned before correcting himself. "Regina."

"Imbecile," she returned his greeting, her tone teasing.

"Your wife is so much nicer," he commented offhandedly, thanking Ruby as the waitress placed a plate in front of him and sauntered off. "Why do I put up with you again?"

"Perks of being the Mayor, I suppose." He raised an eyebrow and she smirked while explaining, "In public everyone is my friend, unless they want me to make their lives miserable."

He nodded in understanding, spearing a piece of bacon from his plate as he replied, "Makes sense, what with you being evil incarnate and all."

"Indeed," she agreed, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. _Oh how true that once was._ Seeing a brief flash of red outside from the corner of her eye, she looked over to the door as Emma sauntered into the diner, and smiled.

The blonde head glanced over in her direction and Emma turned mid-step toward the waitress, diverting course to where she sat. Regina barely had the time to see the glint in those eyes before Emma swooped down and placed a kiss on her lips, stealing the breath from her lungs with unnatural ease.

"Good afternoon, lover," Emma murmured when she straightened, feigning ignorance to the flush of olive cheeks as she turned and greeted David. "Ace Ventura," she said cheerfully and spun on her heel, leaving two very confused people at her back.

"That was odd," David commented, fork half-raised to his mouth before he paused. "Who's Ace Ventura?"

"Pet detective," Regina responded without pausing to think, eyes still firmly on her wife, who was chatting away with Ruby. _Odd indeed._

David cleared his throat and her eyes snapped back to him, frowning before she realised what she'd said. "It's a movie; I'll lend it to you sometime, you'll love it." _Because you and your sister are as moronic as Jim Carrey_ , she added in her mind, her smile reappearing at the thought.

"Right," he grunted and resumed eating as her attention returned across the room, eyes drawn to the pleasant curve of the blonde's backside as she leaned on the counter.

"Sheriff," she called sweetly, voice airy as she rose from her booth. Emma looked to her over a shoulder, eyebrow raised and a knowing grin spread over her lips. Regina smirked. "My office, one hour—don't be late."

"Wouldn't dream of it, _Madam Mayor_ ," she responded cheekily.

From her mouth, Regina couldn't find a single fault with the title and rather than scowl, she winked and blew Emma a kiss, leaving behind the sound of rich laughter as she exited the diner with the image of flush, dimpled cheeks vivid in her mind.

* * *

Emma sauntered into town hall, coffee in hand, thankful for the extended distraction from the mountain of paperwork she'd been saddled with. Robin was completely useless, his chicken scratch so ineligible that after the last report he'd handed to her, she kicked him out of the station and told him to go patrol while she rewrote the whole thing.

How Regina had managed to tolerate him as a Deputy for so long would forever escape her understanding, not that she had bothered to broach the topic with her wife. She had a feeling that any mention of the man would result is some kind of unpleasantness she didn't want to deal with, a rare decision in which her intelligence shone through.

Regina's secretary gestured to the closed door of the Mayor's office with a dismissive, "She's expecting you, Sheriff," eyes glued to the screen of her computer. Emma snorted as she moved forward, glancing over her shoulder and seeing that the woman was playing Tetris of all things.

She entered the office and closed the door behind her, sauntering over and dropping into the seat in front of Regina who had yet to look up. "Very hardworking secretary you have there," she commented, humour in her voice.

Dark lips quirked. "Solitaire?" the brunette asked, scribbling something down. Emma chuckled; _of course_ , nothing slipped passed Regina's notice.

"Tetris," she corrected, leaning back in the chair as she crossed her legs and sipped her coffee.

Silence settled on them, broken every so often by the scratch of pen or a sigh of some kind; annoyance, exasperation—typical Regina Mills sounds Emma could listen to all day, as long as they weren't directed at her. She wasn't in any rush to get back to the station, and Regina knew it.

After about ten minutes, Regina lowered her pen and rubbed the bridge of her nose. Emma leaned forward, offering up what remained of her coffee, knowing her wife needed it far more than she did.

"Thank you," Regina murmured, smiling as she accepted and took a large swallow. She then set the cup down, the words _tell her_ echoing in her head, and she sighed.

"You were shot," she said; blunt and too the point was always best with Emma. "The curse _is_ adapting to your presence and as far as everyone is concerned, you've been in this town as long as the rest of us. According to everyone's memories—with the exception of my own—the former Sheriff shot you and fled the scene; he was found three months later in the forest, dead due to a heart attack."

"You don't share the same memory?"

Regina shook her head. "In mine, he _did_ shoot you but it wasn't a heart attack that killed him." She paused, a wry grin forming plump lips as she corrected, "Well, not in the sense that everyone believes."

Emma smirked. "You went all Evil Queen on him, huh?"

As Regina pushed her chair back and came around her desk, Emma dropped the foot resting on her knee back to the floor and welcomed her wife into her lap, hands gently squeezing hips as she kissed her softly.

"I did." Foreheads touching, Regina closed her eyes and murmured, "I'm not sure what really happened to him. We had dinner together at the diner the night before you arrived."

"Who was he?"

Regina smiled, hearing the faint hint of jealousy in her wife's tone. "The Huntsman," she answered, a soft chuckle passing her lips as Emma huffed. "You're the only one for me."

In answer, Emma hummed knowingly and pressed another kiss to her lips before she pulled back with a frown. The Huntsman's loyalty to the Queen could almost rival her own, and she knew how much her wife valued him.

"We should find out what happened—people don't just disappear," she said. Her frown deepened when Regina laughed before she realised; hadn't she _just_ disappeared for over two decades?

"You know what I mean," she chuckled and rolled her eyes.

Regina nodded, winding her arms about her wife's neck and smiling when Emma returned the embrace, sliding her hands from hips to back as their lips brushed. "We should get back to work," Regina whispered, actions belaying her words as she claimed another kiss.

Teeth nipped her lower lip and fingers dipped beneath the waistband of her skirt, barely touching the swells of her backside but content to stroke what flesh they could reach. She welcomed the warm, wet muscle that slipped into her mouth and sucked, drawing a delicious moan from somewhere deep inside the blonde's chest.

Her mind warred between what she should be doing and what she wanted to do even as she continued with the latter, encouraging the scraping of nails along her flesh when her hips jerked and a jolt tore up her spine as her sex collided with a hard stomach. "Emma," she groaned, forcing their mouths apart. "We need to stop."

Their eyes dropped simultaneously to Emma's lap where she continued to rock, her panties getting wetter by the second. She bit her lip and looked up, feeling her cheeks heat as an eyebrow rose, amusement dancing within an emerald gaze.

"You don't want to stop," Emma countered, freeing a hand from her waistband and placing it between her legs, caressing her inner thigh.

Shaking her head, Regina admitted, "No but I—" She gasped as fingers pressed into her and lace rubbed against her clit.

Emma smirked. "We're not stopping," she asserted, stilling the protest on the tip of Regina's tongue as she quickly pushed aside soaked material and stroked her slit.

Eyes slipping shut, Regina moaned. _No, definitely no stopping,_ she thought and allowed Emma to pull her forward, connecting their lips as a finger sheathed inside her wet, clenching heat. She whimpered, hips rolling as warmth gathered in the pit of her stomach and she swore, cursing the blonde's ability to derail her so thoroughly with next to no effort.

* * *

When Emma returned to the station, two hours later than she should have, Robin was at his desk in conversation with Rumplestiltskin. Her lip curled in a grimace and, not wanting to be in the same room with her least favourite people, she ignored both of their gazes and went straight through to her office.

She made decent progress on the remaining paperwork before there was a knock at her door and she looked up to see the smirking face of Rumplestiltskin, rolling her eyes as she gestured for him to enter. "What do you want?" she asked, looking back at the forms on her desk.

"Now is that any way to greet your son's grandfather?"

Head snapping back up, she blinked back her confusion and scowled. "What the hell are you talking about?"

His eyes narrowed and he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him before tapping his way over to her desk and glaring down at her. "My exact instructions were for you to find him, and bring him to me." He leaned in and growled, "Where is the father of your child, Miss Swan? Tell me where my son is!"

"Neal." Emma stopped, mind slowly clouding with the utterance of his name. Nausea pooled in her stomach and a throb developed behind her eye as she dropped her pen and rubbed her temple, shaking her head as she said, "His father's name was Neal and he was just some guy I met at a bar, a one-night stand nothing more."

Immediately, she knew something was wrong. Just like in her dream, deep down she knew it was a lie and she had no idea why. She shook her head again. "Why does that not feel right?" she looked up to find that he was staring at her, confusion and curiosity mingling within his gaze. "What did you do to me?"

He straightened and studied her a moment, searching for something before he took a step back and sighed. "I'm afraid, Miss Swan that whatever has been done to you, was not my doing."

And somehow, she knew he was telling the truth. "I can see now you don't have the answers I seek," he said and she wondered if she imagined the sympathy she detected in his tone. "Please inform your Queen that I need to speak with her."

With that last request, she watched, unable to form the words to stop him as he turned and left her office.


	6. Chapter 6

Entering the pawnshop, Regina's eyes narrowed upon finding the room empty and she huffed. It would be typical of Rumplestiltskin to request her presence and then disappear, as though she didn't have better things to do with her time. Were it not for the fact Emma had sounded upset when she called, she likely wouldn't have bothered at all and instead waited for him to come to her.

Storming over to the counter, she slammed a hand down on the bell to summon him and waited. A few minutes passed before she started to regret not accepting Emma's offer to come with her, knowing the blonde would have stood there, repeatedly tapping the bell until she'd annoyed the imp enough to appear simply to stop her from doing it.

Sometimes, Regina wondered if her own lack of flair for the immature was a curse. She supposed it was simply another way in which Emma balanced her out, but that didn't mean she hadn't sometimes wished for a more impatient, childlike nature—more so when it came to irritating her former teacher, as Emma had proven she could do oh so well.

She allowed him another five minutes before she reached out, and just as she was about to hit the bell again, he appeared in the doorway to the backroom. "Patience is a virtue, dearie," he chided.

"Yes well," she drawled, "My apathy in regards to moral excellence is a vice—now what do you want?"

He chuckled, gesturing for her to follow as he returned to the back and she rolled her eyes, curious but no less annoyed than she had been to begin with. The town wasn't going to run itself and she'd already had to push back two of her meetings due to her extended lunch with Emma.

"I have things to do, Rumple," she said, pausing in the doorway as her eyes took in the sight of the books messily strewn about the place, and what looked to be a recently used alchemy table. "What  _are_ you doing?"

"A rather complicated potion—frustrating process," he replied, waving a hand dismissively as he perused one of the open books on the table. "Are you aware that your wife is suffering significant memory loss?"

Not knowing Emma had shared that detail with anyone else, Regina managed to hide the surprise she felt at the question and made a note to question her at a later date before she spoke. "She may have mentioned something about it, yes."

He paused his browsing and raised an eyebrow, looking to her as he questioned, "And might I ask why you've done nothing to fix it?"

Regina's brow rose high on her forehead, disbelief in her voice as she answered with a question of her own. "Am I to believe you aren't the one responsible for it?"

He held her gaze as he replied, "As it is rather counterproductive to my plans, I can assure you that I had nothing to do with it."

She allowed his words to sink in, considered them, and found that she believed him, surprisingly. "I doubt it would have happened, had you not abducted her in the first place," she snapped, annoyed with the reminder that Emma had been nothing more than a tool to him.

He sighed, eyes returning to the book with a muttered, "Details, dearie," and she scowled. If she didn't need him to return magic, and perhaps now return Emma's memories, she would have given in to the desire to march across the room and strangle him with her bare hands.

Lips curled in a sneer, she repeated her original question with a hiss, "What do you want?"

"As I mentioned previously, I require the two of you to break the curse," he answered, flipping through pages as he explained. "However, Emma's loss of memories means that she is incomplete and without them, I fear  _True Love's kiss_ might not be possible and  _that_ means I must solve this little dilemma before we can proceed."

Massaging her temple to ward off the oncoming headache, Regina crossed the room to a chair and sat down, resigned to being subjected to his company longer than she would have liked. "I have yet to hear my part in all this."

Closing his book, Rumple levelled her with a pointed stare. "I need to know which of her memories are missing, how much time she has forgotten and whether or not she has remembered anything since she returned." Regina opened her mouth to question why he didn't simply ask her, and he raised his hand, seemingly reading her mind as he stated, "We both know your little knight has an aversion to speaking with me."

"I wonder why," she huffed, though she doubted she would have any more luck than he would.

She had broached the subject a number of times since Emma mentioned the loss of memories, only for the blonde to dismiss her concern as though it didn't matter. In fact, Emma had said a few times that it  _didn't_  matter, reasoning that the two of them were together and that was all she cared about.

In all honesty, the response didn't surprise her and even managed to  _charm_ her, but it was also infuriating. As much as she wanted to help Emma  _for_  Emma, she also wanted to sate her own curiosity on the matter and the fact she had yet to do so was absolutely maddening. She knew she could order her wife to tell her all she wanted to know, but then she remembered their son's words the night she'd told him how they met, and she found herself hesitant to treat Emma as the subordinate she claimed to be.

Pushing aside the thoughts, she sighed. "At the moment, all I can tell you is that she's missing the first ten years," she said, watching his face for the smallest reaction.

There were a range of emotions that flashed across his expression, none more prominent than surprise as he stared at some indefinable spot on the wall behind her. It added to her belief that he had nothing to do with Emma's memory loss, and served to irritate her further. If Rumple wasn't the cause, that meant someone else was, which also meant she needed to watch out for someone besides the Dark One taking advantage of her wife.

"…to erase that much time."

She blinked, shaking her head as she questioned, "What?"

His eyes snapped to her and she wondered if the confusion that clouded them meant he'd forgotten she was there. He shook his head and stood, moving to one of the many shelves surrounding them and pulling another book from within. "You know what I require," he said. "Go, talk—manipulate—demand; whatever it is you need to do to get me the information I need."

Were she not entirely thrilled to be rid of his presence, she would have protested the way he dismissed her. As it were, she rolled her eyes and rose from the chair, leaving the store without another word wasted as she returned to the office.

* * *

Knowing the identity of her son's father, Emma needed time to process and left Robin in charge until she returned. She found herself wandering through the forest surrounding the town, no particular destination in mind as she tried to reconcile the man she remembered with the one inadvertently responsible for the loss of time with her wife.

Aside from the dream she had about the pirate, she hadn't given her memories more than a passing thought, missing or otherwise. She was never one to dwell on the past, nor did she put much faith in the future, preferring to live in the present and enjoy what she had while it lasted rather than worrying over what _could have been_ , and  _what will be_.

It was naïve to hope her ideal life would always coincide with reality, she knew, but optimism tended to run in her veins and sometimes she allowed herself to be overwhelmed by the fulfilment she found in the simple things. She had her two greatest loves back in her life, and the memories of her time without them were often far from her mind.

Now, all she could think about was the fact that Neal—no, Baelfire—was Rumplestiltskin's son. She had slept with the spawn of the Dark One. She paused in her walk as a shudder tore down her spine, face contorting with a grimace. Being roasted alive by a Dragon was starting to sound appealing.

 _Shame I killed the only one in Storybrooke_ , she thought, shaking her head at herself. The only thing worse was that she knew she would have to tell Regina, and that was definitely not a conversation she was looking forward to. On the plus side, once the shit storm passed, she might finally be able to punch the imp in the face and there was very little she found more satisfying than that thought.

Rumplestiltskin was the sole reason behind a lot of the suffering that she and Regina went through in their old land. As much as she didn't want to live in the past, the pain he caused them had always been an exception. He had a lot to answer for and the day that he did, she would be there to remind him exactly why it had to be the way it would be when he finally paid for his crimes against them and anyone else who'd had the misfortune of being caught up in his manipulations.

"If I weren't so fond of you, I might be upset you've stolen yet another role from me."

Snapping from her thoughts, Emma whirled at the voice from behind and her eyes widened, mouth falling open as she came face to face with the Huntsman. "You're alive," she sputtered, stumbling backwards.

"It seems the curse thought I should be used to having you replace me," Graham replied, tone playful as his mouth curled at the edges. "From favoured Knight to the Sheriff of Storybrooke, all my hard work rescuing cats from trees wasted."

He watched as Emma stepped forward, grin firmly in place as her hands engulfed his face. "You're far less hairy than I remember," she told him, his laughter sending the forest creatures scattering. She smirked. "Regina is going to murder you for making her worry."

Clasping her hands and bringing them to his lips, he brushed her knuckles with a kiss. "Seeing you alive and well again was great while it lasted," he said, mirth shining in his eyes as he added, "Because she is far more likely to kill you for telling me she was worried."

"Touché," she conceded, matching his grin with one of her own as she released her hold on his face.

There was little Regina despised more than someone knowing she considered them worthy enough to warrant her particular brand of care, which consisted mostly of mild threats of violence should one be stupid enough to put themselves in harms way. Emma had been on the receiving end of such far too often to count the times, despite the fact that more often than not; it was all part of being a Knight.

Even the Queen was prone to irrational bouts of crazy from time to time.

Shaking the memories of such instances from her head, Emma remembered the reason she was out there to begin with and sighed. "Well, I guess I at least have something good to tell her before she finds out I slept with Rumplestiltskin's son."

"You what?!" Graham shouted.

* * *

Regina glanced to her intercom with a frown a moment before the door to her office opened. She was about to press the button to yell at her secretary because she had asked not to be interrupted for the remainder of the day but then she spotted the red leather draped over an arm and sighed, dropping her pen as she leaned back in her chair.

"To what do I owe…" Her words stuttered to a halt and she had to resist scrambling from her chair as she gasped, "Graham?"

"Shhh," Emma hissed, throwing the door closed. All three flinched at the sound. She had managed to sneak him halfway across town without anyone realising who he was, not knowing what would happen if it was discovered he was alive and not  _wanting_ to know as she gave her wife a pointed glare.

Removing his jacket and taking the hat from his head, Graham grinned and dropped to his knees, hand against his chest and above his heart as he bowed his head with a murmured, "My Queen."

Regina gasped again, unable to resist this time as she shot to her feet and hurried out from behind her desk, shooting Emma a glance before returning her attention to the man at her feet. "You remember?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," he replied, lifting his head to meet her gaze. Emma turned upon seeing the adoration in their eyes and rolled her own, moving toward the sofa on the other side of the room.

Regina smiled down at him, sinking fingers into his shaggy hair. No matter the time nor place, she had always had a soft spot for the man she had once sent after her step-daughter. "You may stand," she said, acknowledging his look with a tilt of her head, and laughing softly as he embraced her.

"I didn't know what to expect when I woke in the forest," he said as he pulled back, grinning as his eyes darted to the blonde and back again. "It's good to see you once again reunited with your True Love."

"And now my huntsman," Regina replied, returning his grin with one of her own as she kissed his cheek. "Do you know what happened to you?"

He shook his head. "I found a note when I woke up," he explained, checking his pockets before he shrugged. "I must have dropped it. All it said was that I had to stay away from town and that I would find out why soon enough. I had the memories of my life in the Enchanted Forest and not too long after, the new memories surfaced."

Nodding, she stepped from his arms and moved to where her wife lounged. Uncrossing her legs, Emma took her hand and guided Regina down to her lap. Regina sighed softly, content as she leaned back and brought Emma's arms around to hold onto her. She had always been a little ashamed of her connection with Graham, and did her best to reassure Emma in whatever way she could.

"He should stay with us," Emma declared, resting her chin in the crook of Regina's neck. "At least until we break the curse and everyone else remembers who he really is."

"I wouldn't want to impose," Graham countered, eyes wide in feigned innocence.

Emma laughed, rolling her own as she retorted, "Liar."

* * *

"You what?!" Regina cried, a dark expression clouding her features. Graham was at the house with Henry, while Regina and Emma volunteered to go the cabin where the huntsman had stayed for the duration of his brief exile, and Emma had thought it the perfect time to broach the topic of Baelfire.

Emma chuckled, overcome with déjà vu, before she thought better of it and slapped a hand over her mouth, a flutter of fear in the pit of her stomach as an almost feral growl tore from the brunette's throat. She had a feeling it was going to take a lot more than the simple explanation she provided Graham to placate her wife, and had to resist the urge to run as Regina advanced on her.

Towering over her, Regina grabbed her by the jaw and tilted her head back as she snapped, "Explain. Now."

Emma flinched, stomach churning as fear and arousal combined, unsure of which was stronger as she reminded herself that now wasn't the time. Regina was pissed and as that level of anger was so rarely directed at her, Emma was painfully aware that one wrong move or word would have Regina throwing her out of her house, if not outright murdering her.

"All I had to go on was his name—Baelfire," she said, swallowing down the lump in her throat as she tried, and failed, to avert her gaze as nails bit into flesh. "The man I met, at the bar, he introduced himself as Neal but if what Rumple says is true, then I don't think that memory is real."

She shook her head, ignoring the pain in her jaw as she continued. "I must have found him in that other world, or discovered he was in this one and found a way here—I don't know, Regina; I can't remember."

Regina loosened her grip and frowned. "What are you talking about? What other world?"

"I…" Emma sighed, raising her hand as Regina's fell to her side, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I dreamt of being somewhere else. I think it was a memory. I was talking to someone—a pirate Captain, I think."

"A pirate Captain," Regina repeated, brow rising in question and Emma nodded. "His name wouldn't happen to have been Killian, or perhaps Captain Hook, would it?"

Emma remained silent, sifting through the remnants of her dream. She was certain he introduced himself, but she couldn't recall a name. "I don't know," she said, releasing a growl of frustration as the lack of answers was starting to upset her.

"Badly shaven, leather outfit, rings on the thumb and forefinger of his right hand," Regina supplied, tone softening with each utterance. "He has a hook in place of his left."

Nodding along up until the mention of the hook, Emma wracked her brain for the memory of that night. "I don't know about the hook, but I only remember seeing the hand holding the tankard."

"He has a fondness for calling everyone love," Regina added, smirking at her own memories of the pirate. "He also despises the Dark One even more than you do, and assuming it  _was_ Killian Jones, then I imagine you were in Neverland, which may provide some insight into those missing years of yours."

Emma frowned as the brunette then turned, reaching out and grabbing her by the wrist as she questioned, "Where are you going?"

"I need to call Rumple," Regina answered as she tugged herself free and Emma stood, following her out to the car. "He wanted to see me because of your memories, he thinks he knows how to bring them back but he needed to know things he didn't think you'd tell him."

When she retrieved her phone from her purse and Emma hadn't offered a response, Regina turned to her. "Why?" Emma asked. "Why would he help me, after everything he's done?"

"My love, you should know by now that nothing he does is to help anyone other than himself." With a sigh, Regina closed the space between them and cupped Emma's face in one hand. She leaned in, pressing a kiss to her lips

"We have no choice," she added, smiling softly as she brushed a thumb over the blonde's cheekbone. "You need your memories, and if I want my revenge on  _everyone_ who took you from me, I need to know what happened to you."


	7. Chapter 7

_"You don't want to play games, so I stop playing games." Regina rose from her chair, palms slamming down on her desk as she growled, "You scorn being tethered to my side, and I allow you freedom. What do you want? Because I am done trying to find ways to dissuade myself from killing you."_

_"I am a soldier," Emma snapped, spinning on her heel and glaring holes into the Queen. "You command me, I obey. This freedom, as you call it, is driving me insane; give me something to do."_

_The tension in the room was palpable as they stared one another down. For weeks now, Emma had waited, and waited, and waited. The Queen didn't send for her; there were no messages, no annoying ghosts in the mirror. If they saw each other, it was in passing with no words between them and Emma was at her wits end._

_"Fine," Regina spat and reached for her quill, the jerk of her hand almost violent as she filled the parchment in front of her. No more than a handful of minutes passed before she dropped the quill and waved her hand, drying the ink before she rolled the parchment and stamped it with her seal._

_Advancing on her, Regina slapped the message against her chest. "There is an outpost to the southwest that borders my Kingdom and the Ogre Lands. Take this to a guard there by the name of Malcolm, tell him to come home," she ordered, turning and walking back to her desk as Emma bent to retrieve the parchment, having ignored it as it fluttered to the floor._

_"You will take his place."_

_Grinding her teeth, Emma pushed down the unexpected anger that swelled at being sent away and straightened. She stared at the Queen's back a moment, trying to force the words that wouldn't come before she shook her head and left without comment. If Regina wanted her gone, that suited her perfectly._

A throat cleared and startled Emma from her memories, eyes snapping open. Her fingers flexed and she remembered the drink in her hand, resisting her desire to throw it in the direction of the sound as her gaze traveled swiftly to the door. Seeing Regina there, eyebrow cocked curiously, Emma sighed and let her head fall back against her seat as the tension drained from her body.

Three days after his appearance at the station, Rumple had showed up at the house and shoved a vial into her hand. He said nothing before he left, but it didn't take a genius to figure out what she was holding. Another two days passed before she decided to extend a sliver of trust—after Regina did her tests to insure he wasn't attempting to poison her, of course.

"Anything?" Regina questioned, lowering herself to the cushion beside the blonde. Emma shook her head, ice clinking against her glass as she lifted it to her mouth and drank.

"So far, its things I already remember," she replied, licking the residue of whiskey from her lips as her head rolled to the side. "I think he overestimated how much I've forgotten; I was just reliving the day you sent me to the border. I was pissed the entire time I spent at that outpost, you know."

Regina chuckled and leaned against her, slipping a hand behind her back as she burrowed into her side. "How do you think I felt sending away the woman I was starting to realize I had feelings for?"

Emma pressed a kiss to her cheek and laid their heads together as she smiled. She closed her eyes, recalling every minor detail of those two, hellish months; first with Regina avoiding her, and then being sent to the ass end of nowhere. It seemed no matter what she said or did, Regina constantly found ways to get on every single one of her nerves.

"Your welcome home made up for it," she murmured, remembering the way Regina had demanded her immediate presence within her chambers. Emma had been irritable, exhausted, hungry— _filthy_ , yet the Queen beckoned and she obeyed. As soon as she set foot inside that room, though, Regina had taken exactly what she wanted and Emma had passed out with the most absurd grin on her face.

While she spent the entire time she was gone brooding, Regina had come to a number of conclusions. One, sending Emma away meant she worried, which had been thoroughly distracting. Two, there was no one around worth annoying and three, Emma's presence did not detract from the very real fact that somewhere along the line, the Queen had somehow developed  _feelings_  for her Champion.

In the end, Regina had very little control over what happened when Emma returned to the castle. "You weren't even there and you were frustrating me," she confessed with a huff.

"Try as I might," Emma replied, voice like honey as she purred the words in Regina's ear. "I can't seem to care enough to apologise."

With a smirk, Regina took the glass from her hand and downed what was left before she placed it down by their feet. Turning back, she swung her leg over the blonde and straddled her lap. "Who said I wanted an apology?" she questioned, brushing their lips together. "I quite enjoyed the payoff."

Emma hummed, hands dipping beneath a tight skirt to clutch at strong, olive thighs. She certainly wasn't alone in that regard. Emma was beyond grateful she hadn't succumbed to her stupidity that night and ended it all before it began, as that had been her first instinct when the Queen kissed her—or more aptly put; attacked her. Not that she could be blamed considering she had spent the better part of the previous month simply trying to survive.

That particular outpost was where guards were sent when they needed to be put in their place. It was less of a duty, and more of a punishment. Between the torrential downpours and howling winds, one could barely sleep more than a couple of hours, and that was assuming there was enough food to fill your stomach so the starvation didn't keep you awake.

"That place sucked," she mused aloud, blinking back the memories as she returned her attention to the warm, soft flesh against her palms and started rubbing the brunette's thighs.

Regina chuckled. "I was the Evil Queen," she reasoned, grasping Emma by the elbows and forcing her hands higher. "It could have been a lot worse."

Eyes drawn down as the tips of her fingers came across lace, Emma grinned. "I still don't think I deserved to be sent there," she murmured distractedly.

"You wanted something to do and that was all I had at the time," Regina protested, gliding her hands over shoulders where she tangled fingers within messy curls. "Besides, if you had been more specific…"

She trailed off as Emma laughed, a frown creasing her brow.

Emma nipped her lower lip, bringing the smile back to her face before she said, "If I had been more specific, you'd have sooner tossed me in the dungeon than granted my request."

"Would it have hurt you to try?" Regina grinned, drawing another laugh from the blonde. "What? I had a very nice dungeon."

"Mmm," Emma hummed, unable to refute the claim as, amusingly enough, it was the truth.

"Are you going to wander off into your memories again?"

Emma smiled and dismissed the emerging thoughts in her mind. "No," she assured, removing a hand from beneath Regina's skirt and wrapping an arm about her waist. She stood without warning and Regina gasped, thighs clamping down on her hips.

"What are you—"

"Taking you to bed," Emma interrupted, eyebrow raised. "But if you want to free your inner exhibitionist, we can stay here."

"That's rather presumptuous of you," Regina replied, though it was obvious she wasn't about to argue as she dragged her nails along Emma's scalp and forced the blonde's eyes to close with a content hum.

"I prefer to think of it as being intuitive."

With a shake of her head, Regina leaned in and kissed her soundly on the mouth. "Take me to bed, my love," she murmured against lips, smiling as she felt Emma's responding grin.

"Yes, my Queen."

* * *

Dressed in her usual outfit of a form-fitting suit, sans heels, Regina emerged from the wardrobe and crossed to the bed, enjoying the feel of plush carpet beneath her feet. She came to stand on the side where Emma still peacefully slept, a warmth gradually spreading through her chest as she studied the calm expression the blonde wore.

Part of her wished she could experience the dream responsible for the look—to know the happiness that created the subtle upturn of pale lips, assuming a dream existed at all. Emma had a knack for looking serene in sleep, regardless of what her subconscious may or may not be forcing her to relive that Regina was ashamed to admit she envied.

Silently, she scolded herself and bent down, brushing the blonde's forehead with a whisper of a kiss. She uttered a soft, "I love you," and straightened before she exited the bedroom, ignoring the yearning she had to be irresponsible for the first time in two decades.

As much as she wanted to turn right around, discard her clothes and spend the entire weekend lazing around with Emma in bed, she had a huntsman to wake and a son to feed. Stood outside the guestroom, she thumped loudly on the door until she heard a grumbled, "I'm up," and smirked as she made her way to Henry's room at the opposite end of the hall.

Opening his door, she quietly stepped into his room and moved to his bed. She took a seat on the edge, murmuring that it was time for him to get up as she ran her fingers through his hair. His eyes fluttered open, hazy with sleep and he smiled up at her.

"Morning," he mumbled out through a yawn, and she chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek before she stood.

When she asked him what he wanted for breakfast, he argued that it was  _Ma's_  turn to decide and, once she explained to him that Emma would remain asleep for as long as she liked, she departed his room with a baffling request for hot chocolate with cinnamon on top, and a large helping of banana chocolate-chip pancakes.

Caught within her musings about how much Emma had already rubbed off on their son, she ran straight into a bare-chested Graham on her way to the staircase. Snapping out of her thoughts, she pushed away from him with a hand on his chest. "How many times must I tell you to put a shirt on before leaving your room?"

"I'm kind of in a hurry to get to the bathroom," he defended, taking a step back and rocking on the balls of his feet.

A perfectly sculpted eyebrow rose in response. "Are you arguing with your Queen?" Regina questioned, laughing lightly as his cheeks flushed before they dimpled with a charming grin.

"Yes, yes I am," he replied, reminded by his memories of the two of them in Storybrooke that there was more to their relationship than him simply being a Knight and her his Queen.

He was her friend, and there was nothing she liked more than teasing him as such. "May I please be excused to use the bathroom, Your Majesty? I promise to put a shirt on when I'm finished."

Regina smirked and stepped aside. "By all means," she drawled, turning her head as Henry appeared in his doorway. She followed his gaze down the hall, and frowned as she caught sight of Emma disappearing downstairs.

When she looked back at her son, he offered her a lopsided smile and shrug of his shoulders before he too disappeared behind the door to his own bathroom. She sighed and shook her head, descending the stairs as she decided to go after Emma before she had too much time to brood.

Entering the kitchen, she nearly collided with the blonde as Emma was leaving and she frowned, grabbing the hand that held keys as Emma tried to move around her. "Where do you think you're going?" she questioned, a slight edge of panic in her voice.

Eyes darting from the hand around her wrist, to the somewhat fearful look on her wife's face, Emma frowned. "Robin called, said Roland was sick; someone needs to be at the station," she explained, hand falling to her side as Regina released her.

Relief flashed through chestnut eyes before Regina's face hardened. "Find someone else," she demanded. "I don't care who, but it's the weekend and you promised our son you would spend time with him."

Henry chose then to come bounding down the stairs and Emma glanced over at him with a thoughtful look. She shrugged after a moment and turned back to Regina as she said, "So I'll take him with me."

Regina frowned. "And what about me?" she questioned, hating the way she sounded as though she were whining but, well, she was truth be told. Their jobs didn't exactly leave a lot of time for them to be together—all three of them as a family, and she had been looking forward to the weekend all week.

Emma sighed. "Kid, go wait in the kitchen," she ordered, taking Regina by the hand and leading her toward the foyer while Henry did as he was told. She opened the front door and stepped out, ignoring Regina's protests as she pulled her outside.

Before Regina could question it, Emma spun, yanked the door shut and backed her up against it. Emma kissed her; hard and deep, lips parting automatically for the tongue that slipped inside her mouth. Hands found hips as what started out as heated and demanding changed to soft—teasing. Regina whimpered, practically melting against the blonde as every single one of her nerve endings were set alight.

"Stay here," Emma husked as she pulled back, squeezing her hip to silence the protest Regina was about to voice. "Spend the morning with our son—and Graham…"

Regina shook her head, almost interrupting again if not for the kiss Emma pressed to her lips. "I know you want to," she murmured against her mouth. "It's okay, he's your friend; we've had this argument before and I have absolutely no desire to repeat it."

She leaned back, their chests separating while their lower bodies remained firmly connected. Regina nodded in understanding, as she too had no desire to repeat the worst night of her life. "Henry and I will meet you for lunch," she conceded and Emma smiled. "But I meant what I said; find someone else to cover for Robin because I have no intention of giving up our weekends together."

"Okay," Emma agreed quietly and kissed her once more before she moved away entirely. "Love you," she said, grinning as she walked backwards and somehow avoided tripping down the stairs.

Regina chuckled and—despite the years worth of memories, their marriage, and the many times she had heard those words from Emma's mouth—she blushed. "I love you too," she replied, watching until the blonde slipped behind the wheel of her bug and drove away.

* * *

_A knock sounded, rousing Emma from sleep and she stared up at the dilapidated ceiling above her head, confused as she brought a hand to her stomach. She gasped as her fingers met sweat-soaked flesh, throwing the furs covering her body off as her eyes snapped down._

_Her heart sped up and she stared at the protrusion of her torso, blinded by images—flashes of memories she hadn't known existed. She squeezed her eyes shut, dread filling her with each passing second. Her throat closed in panic and she clapped a hand over her mouth._

_A louder, more rapid knock filled the room and she tore the hand from her mouth to shout, "Go away," gulping in a lungful of air a moment later as her throat protested and she realized she had stopped breathing._

_"Emma? Emma, please open the door."_

That voice _, she thought,_ I know that voice. _She sifted through the memories. Regina laughing, smirking, teasing, yelling. "My Queen," she whispered and slowly shook her head, forcing herself to concentrate._

_The man, the one responsible for the situation she suddenly found herself in; it was his voice, and she growled as his face pervaded her thoughts._ Baelfire _, she remembered, a shudder wracking her body, repulsed by the mere reminder of who he was._

_Forcing herself up from the bed, she struggled to her feet, off-balance with the weight of the life growing inside of her. She ground her teeth and yanked open the door, barely giving him time to register her before she slammed a fist into his face. The impact sent him to the floor and the momentum of her swing forced her down with him, anger soothed by the warm splatter of blood that painted her face, and then—_

Emma jerked awake with the sound of heels in her ears, and her spine straightened of its own accord. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and rubbed the hand along a jean-clad thigh as she forced her breathing under control, inhaling deeply through her nose and releasing it slowly through parted lips.

On the fourth exhale, Regina and Henry appeared at the door to her office, takeout in hand, and she offered them a smile. "Hey."

Eyebrow cocked playfully as she took in the state of her wife, Regina teased, "Sleeping on the job, Sheriff?" Emma's expression turned sheepish and Regina chuckled, knowing she had guessed correctly. "Whatever will I do with you?"

"Love me," Emma echoed the answer she gave the night of her return when Regina had asked almost that exact same question. It was the same each time she asked, and it always would be. "Now, where's my food, woman?"

"Here," Henry piped up, taking the bag from his mother's hand and sliding it across the desk to the blonde. Emma grinned, catching the eye roll Regina sent their way as she watched them tear through it to find their food.

"You're a couple of farm animals," she stated, amused despite having to watch the two of them simultaneously sink their teeth in to the burgers she'd bought for them, as though they were both starved and hadn't been fed for weeks.

Emma; she begrudgingly understood and forgave, but Henry? She shook her head and fixed her son with a mildly scolding look as she chided, "I cooked you a nice breakfast no more than four hours ago."

He swallowed what was in his mouth and beamed. "I inherited Ma's appetite," he blamed his blonde mother, unashamed as he went back to his burger and ignored the look of outrage Emma wore while Regina laughed out loud.

"Well in that case," she drawled good-humouredly, walking around the desk and claiming Emma's lap as Henry had taken the only other chair in the room. She kissed Emma's cheek and reached for her own lunch as she added, "Your barbarianism is forgiven."


	8. Chapter 8

Frustrated, exhausted, upset; all three described Regina, and yet none of those came close to scratching the surface of her how she was feeling that evening. Emma had taken the memory potion over a week ago and still refused to tell her what she remembered, going so far as to work extra hours at the station to avoid talking about it.

When it was the two of them alone, the silence between them was as comfortable as ever and each night they retired for bed, Emma always found the energy to make love to her before they went to sleep but she continued to pretend as though nothing was wrong. She smiled when coming home to a cooked meal, offered her affection as freely as she ever had and always made time for Henry and his video games before he went to bed.

If she didn't know better, Regina would have thought it perfect—the exact kind of life she had envisioned as a child who dreamed of nothing more than falling in love, and running away with the stable boy. Emma had never lacked the ability to make her happy, to remind her of how it felt to be loved, to be cherished so thoroughly that she could almost forget just how miserable her life had been before they met. Emma did, however, have the tendency to brood and even as she tried to actively prevent herself from doing so, Regina saw right through her.

Emma remembered something, and whatever it was bothered her to the point she was willing to start a fight between them to keep it to herself. A fight that ended no more than ten minutes ago when Regina almost struck the woman she loved, stopped by the memory of their last fight flashing through her mind in warning when  _almost_  hadn't cut it.

Apparently her wife keeping secrets from her didn't quite measure up to being called a whore.

With a sigh, Regina tore her gaze from her hand and clenched her fist, eyes drawn to the window where she could see Emma leaning against her apple tree. She supposed it was a small mercy the blonde hadn't left, though it wouldn't surprise her if the only reason for that was because Emma had no where else to go.

Shaking her head and releasing a breath, she stood, picking up her wine as she turned on her heel and departed the kitchen. As much as she wanted to go outside into the backyard and apologise, giving Emma space seemed the safer option. She had tried to follow that last time, which caused Emma to run straight into the scheming hands of Rumplestiltskin.

Instead, she settled within her study and drank, downing drink after drink as if the wine were simply water and not something she would regret in the morning. She lost count after her fifth, her stare fixed to the clock despite time having lost all meaning over an hour ago. Her eyes stung but never watered and what strength she possessed while intoxicated was used to keep them open as she waited for a sign—a sound that would tell her Emma had stayed.

When she woke to a throbbing head and parched throat, she groaned, unaware of where her head ended up during the night. Her eyes snapped open at the familiar feel of fingers running through her hair and she whimpered, turning into the warmth she realised was radiating against her cheek as she laid in the blonde's lap.

"I was too tired to carry you to bed," Emma murmured, trailing a hand down to settle in the crook of her neck as she stroked her jaw with the pad of her thumb.

"I'm sorry," Regina croaked, ignoring the comment. Where she slept wasn't important. That Emma was still there, offering her comfort when she didn't deserve it; that was important and not something she was about to dismiss.

Emma didn't respond, not that she expected her to. Regina wasn't deluded to believe it that easy; if twenty years and losing her memories was the price of forgiveness the first time, then a half-conscious apology wasn't about to cut it.

After a time, she rolled from where she lay and once she was certain she was safe from the wave of dizziness that swayed her, she left the blonde to her thoughts while she went in search of something to cure a hangover. She remembered Graham halfway up the stairs and groaned for the second time, bypassing his door in the hope he stayed asleep.

The last thing she needed was him sticking his nose in and questioning why she looked as though she'd just arisen from the dead. Unlike Emma and her irrational jealousy, Graham had more faith in their relationship than the both of them put together and finding out they fought as much as any other couple would surely crush him.

Or, at the very least, baffle the ever-loving shit out of him; as Emma would say.

Finding the ibuprofen tucked away in the cabinet of her son's bathroom, she gingerly made her way back downstairs to the kitchen and was surprised to find Emma standing at the stove. For some reason, it never occurred to her that her wife may have learned to cook in the years they were separated. The last memory she had of Emma attempting to use a stove, the blonde had woken half the castle to deal with the resulting fire, having been under the false impression that if she didn't wake her wife—who could have extinguished it within seconds rather than the half an hour it took the servants—then Regina wouldn't find out.

The memory caused a chuckle and Emma turned, a faint smile on her lips. "Remembering my misadventures?" Chewing her lower lip, Regina nodded and the smile widened. "I should have known the damn mirror would give me up."

"Yes," she agreed, sitting at the counter as Emma handed her a glass of water. "He thought telling me might gain him favour, though he realized his mistake when I trapped him in the Barracks for a month."

"I wondered where he went," Emma commented, turning back to the stove. "He hated me even more when he came back."

Regina hummed as the water slid soothingly down her throat. "His feelings never seemed to bother you before then."

"They didn't," Emma admitted with a shrug of her shoulders. "Never will. Doesn't mean I wasn't curious."

"Well," Regina drawled, placing an elbow on the counter and propping her head in her hand as she sipped her water. "Now you know."

Emma nodded and fell silent, occasionally looking out the window as she made breakfast. Regina watched as the tension slowly seeped into her body, back stiffening as if Emma thought she needed to brace herself for something painful. It made Regina edgy—irritable, but she refused to speak further, wanting to push but resisting. She learned from her mistakes, she didn't repeat them.

When Emma placed a plate in front of her, Regina offered a brief smile of thanks that vanished as soon as she looked down at the food before her. Her stomach lurched at the thought of so much meat and grease and, although she had no mirror to see for herself, she was certain she'd turned green at the mere thought of it.

Emma seemed to have read her thoughts and when she sat, she laughed softly with a shake of her head. "Meat is good for a hangover, the greasier the better," she said, smiling as Regina eyed her warily. "I've had a lot of practice being drunk."

"Recent practice?" Regina prodded, and immediately berated herself as Emma stared silently. She never could leave the past well enough alone, always needing to  _know_.

Emma stood but didn't go far, walking over to the fridge where she poured herself a glass of orange juice. She turned and leaned back against the fridge, chewing her lower lip thoughtfully. "Baelfire drugged me," she sighed, eyes never leaving Regina as she drank from her glass.

Anger, more intense than ever before, flared and Regina had the sudden desire to find this man she had never met and rip out his still beating heart. She ground her teeth, forcing herself to release her own glass before it broke in her hand as she growled, "Why?"

With a shrug, Emma moved back to her seat. "So I wouldn't remember," she replied, knuckles turning almost white as she picked up her fork. "He was a coward. Like father, like son."

"Why wouldn't you tell me this before?"

"Because it hurt." Emma shook her head and glanced down, a mirthless laugh falling from her lips. "Because I ended up in a world I didn't know, with nothing more than his name running through my head. He was imprisoned, by Peter fucking Pan and I rescued him. We spent months—years trying to escape him. I didn't remember you, I thought I was alone…"

Part of Regina knew the moment Emma started to explain. She expected the reason, and yet it still hurt. Her chest ached and her throat closed to the point she had to clear it before she could carry on where the blonde had trailed off. "You fell for him," she guessed, thankful her voice didn't break the same way her heart seemed to.

"Yes," Emma confessed quietly, forcing herself to look up and allow their eyes to meet. "I started to remember," she continued. "I woke one night drenched in sweat, in a crappy bed in some rundown tavern. Seven months pregnant, I remembered you and the first thing I did when I saw Baelfire was break his nose."

Regina remained silent. She wanted to laugh, to see that moment played out as she imagined  _her_ Emma knocking some unfortunate fool to the ground. Emma wasn't done though and as she kept talking, Regina forced herself to listen, letting her anger simmer below the surface until a time came when she could unleash it on someone more deserving.

"I told him why I was there, where I was from and he promised to help me. He said he knew a way back and I believed him. I believed him when he said it was just something to help me remember, and then I was waking up on some dock, being told I'd had an accident by some chick in a suit."

When she stopped speaking, Regina assumed she was finished and she rose, moving to stand beside the blonde where she stilled as more words spilled forth. "I gave birth three days later," she said, voice barely more than a whisper. "I had a son, not knowing who I was or how the hell I was supposed to take care of him."

* * *

Regina left the blonde sitting in the kitchen, no longer able to hold in her anger. She had someone she could take it out on, someone who deserved it far more than Emma ever would. It hurt, to know that Emma had loved another, to think that she might still. She knew when to let something go, however. Emma was upset, reminded of why she had to give up her son, remembering those responsible. Regina was hurt, but it would keep.

For now, she would let her anger rule her—something she hadn't done since that morning when Robin Hood stood on her stoop, likely there to extend an invitation to breakfast that she hadn't let him voice, too caught up in her anger at life and the misery it heaped upon without reason.

Pain could wait.

Anger—anger could not. Despite knowing it was wrong, despite knowing she should have stayed and comforted Emma, she had nothing to offer her. Staying would have meant lying to herself, lying to the both of them. Like Emma, she would have pretended and pushed her own feelings to the back, left to gather dust in some corner of her heart. Not truly forgotten or forgiven, but out of the way where they would build and build until she finally snapped.

One emotion at a time; that was how she remained sane in a world intent on driving her mad.

The bell of the pawnshop protested loudly as the door flew open. She smiled, the sound providing a brief reprieve from the heat of fury swimming about her veins. It lasted no more than the second it took for her eyes to find the counter where Rumplestiltskin stood, eyes curious as he studied her approach.

"You have made a grave mistake," she threatened, darkness seeping into her thoughts—her heart, as her face contorted with a sneer. She welcomed it, reaching out, touching—almost  _tasting_ it. "Your son will pay dearly for what he did to her."

He stiffened, the straightening of his spine visible in his stance as it changed, muscles pulling taut with a tension previously lacked. "You have a child, dearie."

She twitched at the warning found therein, jaw clenching as her nostrils flared. "How dare you," she growled. "You think the threat of an old, crippled man will sway me? If that disgusting, cowardly little spawn of yours steps one foot inside my town, I will tear out his still beating heart and make you watch as his life pours through my fingers."

His face darkened and for a second, she could have sworn she saw the familiar flicker of her former teacher; gold-flecked skin and changing, demonic eyes. He shook his head as if dismissing his own darkness, and his shoulders drooped. "Soon, magic will be brought to this world and—"

"And," she interrupted, tone laced in a long forgotten purr. "I will destroy you, your son and any future you may have had, had you not used us for your own selfish gain."

Silence stretched between them and his eyes fell closed. She waited, the tips of her fingers tingling, almost as if the magic were already present. He released a breath as his eyes opened and in his gaze she found no hint of Gold, or any trace of the human he masqueraded as, as if wiped from existence as his lips pulled into a grin. "Very well, dearie, but do remember this moment; I only borrowed your happy ending. When you lose it for good, the blame will not be mine."

"Believe me, imp, I won't be the one who loses," she chuckled darkly, turning her back as she opened the door and stepped outside. "But the blame will most certainly be yours."

* * *

"Where's Regina?"

Emma shrugged, scrubbing the tracks from her cheeks with the palm of her hands. She had wondered the same thing for the better part of an hour, knowing Regina had left when she heard the Mercedes start and pull from the driveway. She wanted to call, to ask where she was, but the logical side of her knew Regina needed space while Emma tried to ignore the insecurities drumming against her heart, demanding they be let in to torment her.

Graham sat beside her, temporarily distracting her from the thoughts screaming to be heard beneath the suffocating weight of denial she had allowed to wrap around her the second Regina had pulled away. One minute, an arm had curled around her shoulders from behind and a kiss was pressed to her head, and the next, the warmth disappeared from her back along with the arm before she heard the front door firmly close.

The house had felt empty without her presence, even though she had known Graham was still in bed. It was almost as if without Regina, the house retreated, hiding away in the shadows and eagerly awaiting her return. Emma had forced herself to stand no more than five minutes later and dragged herself outside, unable to tolerate the eerie stillness of the mansion.

Graham sighed next to her—a small, barely indiscernible sound she would have missed were he not sitting so close. "Did you two have another fight?" She didn't respond, which was all the response he needed as he said, "I hope this one at least was about something other than your very dashing house guest."

Emma snorted, glancing to him from the corner of her eye and seeing his  _very dashing_  grin as her chest squeezed with affection. "Not everything is about you," she murmured, almost wishing the fact untrue as her jealousy seemed easier to handle than the fear she was certain she would have to face when—if Regina returned.

"Good…" She waited, catching the hesitation before he added, "But you know if going back to the cabin would help, all you need to do is tell me. She loves you more than I thought it possible for her to love anyone and believe me, there have been opportunities over the countless years, none of which she considered until you."

Emma closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the house. She wanted to believe him, of course. She knew Regina loved her, but that didn't guarantee a future for them. Amnesiac or not, she had fallen for someone else and while she went through hell and back during the months of her pregnancy to find a way to return to Regina, the trust between them had to have been damaged by her confession.

"I hope she remembers that," she replied just as her eyes flew open at the sound of the car returning. She stood, glancing to Graham who waved his hand dismissively and sat back, stretching his legs and folding them at the ankles.

Coming around the side of the house, she spotted Regina through the windscreen, rooted in the driver's seat, and frowned. She felt the eyes track her progress as she rounded the car, surprised when the passenger door wasn't locked and she tugged it open, dropping into the seat opposite her wife.

She expected Regina to say something but as the minutes passed, the silence remained and for the first time she could remember, a certain discomfort settled on top of them. "I love you," she blurted, the words clawing at her chest as if wanting to escape, to tear themselves free and force Regina to believe them—to draw them into her own heart and bask in the truth of them.

"I threatened Rumple." Emma blinked as she turned her head, unsure how to respond and at her silence, Regina sniffed and turned as well, meeting her gaze as she explained, "I told him if his son ever came here that I would make him watch as I crushed his heart. I promised to destroy him for what he took from us. I may have put Henry in danger because the thought of losing you has brought back the monster."

Emma watched as the tears threatened to fall and her heart broke at the sight. She shifted, bringing a leg up onto the seat as she twisted to the side and reached for her. Regina let her, a sigh fluttering against her mouth as their foreheads connected. "You won't ever lose me," Emma breathed, caressing her cheek as their breaths mingled.

"I already did," Regina murmured, closing her eyes. "I just didn't know it."

"What you lost was a woman you didn't know," she corrected. "She fell in love with the only person she thought ever cared for her and the moment I remembered, the moment she was gone, you were the only one I wanted. When I lived in Boston without my memories, you were the one I dreamed of, not him."

Regina shook her head, denial in her voice. "You said it hurt."

"Regina," she breathed, exasperated. "I have the memories of three different people inside my head. Yes, his betrayal hurt because she—the woman I was then—thought he cared about her but my pain was because I couldn't bare the thought of losing you when I told you the truth. So I tried to hide it, pretend it didn't exist and I ended up fucking it up anyway."

A sob broke through Regina's walls and Emma brought her other hand up, cupping both cheeks now. "I love you, and only you," she insisted, pleading with her tone as she brushed away the tears that followed. "I don't blame you if you don't believe me, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to prove it to you, but I will always be yours no matter what memories I have or what world I'm stuck in."

Emma didn't know how else to convince her of the truth. She needed Regina to believe her and did the only thing she thought was left as she kissed her, biting back tears of her own as she tasted the salt on lips that moved with her willingly. "You are the only one I love and nothing will ever change that."

Regina shuddered, fingers curling around her wrist as Emma felt the small nod against her head before she was pulled into an unexpected embrace. "Okay," Regina croaked, burying her face in the crook of her shoulder.

Emma sighed, allowing a small measure of relief to flow through her. She wasn't out of the woods yet, but that one word was enough to know Regina wanted her still. A chance was all she could hope for, and Regina was giving her one. "Okay," she repeated, arms sliding around her wife as she closed her eyes and held on.


	9. Chapter 9

Regina woke to an empty bed. She was tired of this, knowing that for the third night in a row, Emma had woken and gone downstairs. Her excuse was the memories—dreams about Neverland. It may have been the truth, to an extent, but Regina knew there was more to it. She'd never claim to be able to read Emma the way Emma could read her, but she knew what guilt looked like when faced with it and ever since their conversation in the car, Emma wasn't hiding her emotions as well as she usually did.

Pushing aside the covers, she rose from the bed with a tired yawn. They needed to talk sooner or later, and if something wasn't done, the fear she had—the fear she knew Emma had, would inevitably come true, as emotions had a way of tearing things apart, whether they wanted them to or not. Regina wasn't about to let that happen, not after waiting two decades.

Retrieving her robe from the chaise lounge, she wrapped it around herself and exited the bedroom. The house was still dark—quiet except for the faint sounds of the TV emanating from the den, the glow from the screen lighting her path as she descended the stairs. Emma turned the moment she rounded the corner and scrambled for the remote, plunging the room into silent darkness.

Regina sighed. "You didn't think that one through, did you?" she questioned, stopping next to the couch.

"No," Emma murmured the admission. "I did not." As the TV came back on, Regina felt the smile pull at her lips, just able to make out the flush of cheeks as she sat down and took the remote from Emma's hand, muting the black and white playing on screen.

Words came to mind far easier than she imagined they would; reassurances that Emma would accept, promises and platitudes to bring them back together again. However, she knew it wouldn't last and she needed to be honest. If it were anyone else, she would be at a loss, unable or perhaps  _unwilling_  to open herself up the way she needed to.

"Do you remember the night you ran from me?" she questioned softly, taking the hand in hers and entwining their fingers. She could feel Emma's hesitation in responding, and gave a comforting squeeze.

"Yes," Emma replied eventually, ending with a sigh that had Regina itching to move closer and wrap her arms around her wife. There wasn't a sound in any world she detested more than the ones Emma made when she was upset.

"Do you remember what I said to you?" she prodded, head in hand as she rested her elbow against the back of the couch and brought her legs up to curl underneath herself. She caught the nod despite its slightness, and prompted, "Tell me."

Emma closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, as though she were trying to inhale the memory. The thought caused Regina's smile to widen as Emma then recited her words from that night, "No matter what you say, think or do, there will never exist a truth as strong as my love for you."

"That love has only grown in your absence and for twenty years, I have waited for you," she said, bringing their hands to her lips and brushing the knuckles with a kiss. "Don't make me wait even longer, Emma."

Eyes fluttered open on a hitch of breath and Regina shifted closer as Emma turned to her, no longer hiding as the guilt rang clear in her expression. "You came for me," she continued, releasing her hand to cup her cheek. "You put your faith in a letter from a ten year old boy, simply for the chance to meet the woman of your dreams. In the diner, you looked at me like I was the answer to your every prayer and for the first time in my life, I felt complete."

With the confession came relief and just like that, all of her thoughts came tumbling from her mouth. "Our son filled a hole in my heart but you? Seeing your beautiful, smiling face again; my heart overflowed with the love I have for you and no one, not even you, will ever take that away from me."

Letting the hand fall from her cheek, Regina placed it on Emma's chest, above her heart. "This," she said, pressing down. "This is mine and I will not allow your guilt to ruin this for us. You said the woman who fell in love with him wasn't you—that she wasn't  _my_  Emma and fear be damned, I'm going to  _accept_ it."

Pulling back, Regina stood and stared down at her, studying the clear struggle Emma was experiencing with her emotions—torn between a mixture of surprise, confusion and resistance. She breathed in a deep, cleansing breath before she added, "So you better have meant it, because love or no, I will  _kill you_ if you break my heart, Emma Swan."

After three days of not saying a thing, resigned to let Emma deal with her problems the way she'd always done; quiet and alone, it was as if a burden had lifted from her shoulders. Regina was relieved to finally be free of that burden, but she was also too drained to deal with the consequences of her decision—good or bad—as she turned on her heel, leaving the den for the comfort of their bed.

With her leave, Emma sank further into the couch, unseeing as she stared ahead lost in thought. Before Regina came down, she'd been wondering how to let go of that guilt, to push it aside and prove her love to Regina like she said she would. Instead, Regina had grabbed the feeling by the throat with her words and snapped its neck. She wanted to laugh, or maybe it was a sob growing in her throat as she tried to rub the tightness from her chest.

She forgot. The memory of that night Regina spoke of had hit her hard, landing simultaneous blows to her chest and stomach as it came flooding into her mind. She remembered the dark eyes of her wife, challenging her to try and deny the truth as she spat her declaration of love from between clenched teeth. Regina had been angry—furious because yet again, Emma had allowed her jealousy to rule her.

"Fucking genie," she muttered, emerging from her thoughts and standing. She moved toward the foyer and turned off the TV, tossing the remote in the direction of the couch before making her way to the stairs and taking them two at a time.

When she pushed open the door to their room, she paused in the doorway and soaked in the sight that waited her. Regina lay on her side of the bed, on her stomach, back bare of the sheet covering the rest of her body and illuminated by the moonlight shining in through the window.

It was a familiar view, one she'd enjoyed and taken advantage of countless times before. She knew that if she didn't join her wife, Regina would eventually migrate to the middle of the bed, barring her a place to sleep. Letting her do so never ended well. She would wake the next morning, grumpier than usual—annoyed at Emma for not coming to bed, who would then have to suffer being ignored until the next night.

Shaking her head with a smile, Emma entered the room and quietly closed the door behind her, discarding her clothes as she circled round to Regina's side of the bed and slipped between the sheets. She rolled to her side and reached across the small space, touching a back that flexed beneath her hand.

"I thought I might have been too subtle," Regina spoke, voice muffled from where her head was buried.

Emma chuckled. "I needed a moment," she confessed, shifting closer. "Can I have a pillow?"

"No."

"Suit yourself," she replied, curling into Regina's side and sliding an arm around her waist as she pressed a kiss to her shoulder. "You're more comfortable anyway."

* * *

The second time Regina woke mirrored the first but when she stretched and her hand smoothed over the empty space beside her, the sheets were still warm to the touch. She felt a strange stirring in her veins and as she shifted from her stomach on to her back, she realized the sound that pulled her from the depths of sleep was that of the shower.

Slowly sitting up, she rested back on her hands and bit her lip thoughtfully as she stared at the closed bathroom door. Deciding she would join her wife, she slipped gracefully from the bed and padded on bare feet toward the bathroom. It was as she reached for the door handle that her alarm chose to go off and she whirled on the device, sending it across the room where it smashed against the wall and fell to the floor in pieces.

Lips parted in shock, her eyes widened in the next instant. "Emma Swan," she shouted, panic in her voice. "Get out here this second!"

The shower shut off as soon as the words were out of her mouth and Regina felt the gust of air against her back from the force Emma yanked open the bathroom door. "Whatever I did," Emma said. "I didn't do it."

"That doesn't even make sense," she snapped and clapped a hand over her mouth as her jewelry box flew off the dresser.

The silence that followed was deafening.

"Um," Emma ventured—whether seconds or minutes later, Regina wasn't sure. "I'm going to assume that wasn't a poltergeist with a strong, negative opinion of your earrings and is, in fact, the reason you screeched my name."

Taking the hand away from her mouth, Regina turned, eyes narrowed in warning, and Emma raised her own hands in surrender. "No time for joking. Got it," she conceded, attention drifting across the room. "Did you break the alarm clock?"

Huffing in exasperation, Regina rolled her eyes. Her wife was an idiot. "Focus, Emma. Do you know what this means?"

Emma cocked an eyebrow, returning her gaze as she suggested, "No more walking everywhere?"

Resisting the urge to slap her, Regina growled before she noticed the laughter shining in emerald eyes, and prodded Emma in the chest. "You are insufferable," she said, ignoring the responding pout as she pushed passed the blonde into the bathroom.

Knowing now that the tingle beneath her skin was that of her magic, she tried not to pay it attention as she turned the shower back on and stepped under the rapidly warming stream. It was a vain attempt, as the feeling seemed to grow in the seconds she pretended it wasn't there. Just as she was about to give on up denying it a presence, she felt the shift in the air and started as Emma grabbed her hips.

The feeling calmed and her eyes fell shut as hands started to map the contours of her body, running soothingly along her sides. It had slipped her consideration that with the return of her magic, Emma's had likely made an appearance also and she sighed, melting into arms as they slipped around her waist and pulled their bodies together.

"He must have brought it back while everyone was asleep," Emma commented, lips at her temple. Regina nodded her agreement and brought her hands over the ones on her stomach. "What do you want to do?"

"I don't know," she answered truthfully. "No doubt he expects us to break the curse but after my little incident this morning, I don't think we should until we figure out how exactly the magic works in this world. I obviously don't have control over it."

"I can barely feel mine," Emma confessed and Regina turned in the embrace, eyes opening as she draped her arms over shoulders. "I remember what it was like back there. I always thought it was annoying, walking around with this… niggling in the pit of my stomach."

Brow furrowed, Regina considered the description and compared it to how she was feeling. The sensation of tingling felt as though it were everywhere at once, but when she concentrated on it—tried to pinpoint its origin, it was always  _there_ ;' in her stomach, ebbing annoyingly as if slowly picking its way through her abdomen in search of escape. It was the complete opposite of how she felt back in their land. She only ever used to notice it when she needed it, and even then, it was so familiar to her that she had to actively  _use_ it to feel it.

But the idea that their magic might have somehow switched seemed absurd. "We should definitely explore this before we even think about breaking the curse," she said, wondering if perhaps she was wrong. It sounded impossible, but if she'd learned anything from the twenty years she spent in this world, impossibilities were rarely anything more than unexplored probabilities.

"Whatever you think is best," Emma replied, shoulders lifting in a shrug and calling attention their states, reminding Regina of where they were as their chests brushed. She bit her lip and looked down between them, a much more welcome and familiar throb starting in the pit of her stomach.

"I think," she purred, lifting her gaze to pale lips that twitched with a grin. "We should explore our current situation before worrying about external…" She paused, flicking Emma's lip with the tip of her tongue and finished with, "…insignificant matters."

Emma chuckled, arms tightening around her body as she repeated, "Whatever you think is best."

* * *

It was decided soon after their rather enjoyable shower together, that Henry would be given the day—possibly the week—off from school. Neither Emma nor Regina saw the point in hiding the reason for such and the second he was told why his mothers were allowing him to play hooky, his face lit with excitement and he begged them to show him what they could do.

Regina promised he could watch their investigation into the extent of their newly returned powers after breakfast, and it was with that promise that the four of them—Graham included—sauntered out into the backyard after breakfast. Emma, as previously stated, was content to go along with whatever Regina decided and stood across from her wife as directed.

Embracing the suspicion that she and Emma had somehow switched powers, Regina recalled her lessons with the blonde during her time as a prisoner and lifted her arm, palm facing the sky. Unlike her proclivity for all things destructive, Emma had a knack for conjuring things and it was that which she focused on as she brought her magic to the surface.

After minutes of trying, when nothing happened, she frowned at her hand. The magic was there, vexingly so as the constant fluttering was starting to nauseate her. She let her eyes travel across the yard to Emma, who'd tilted her head curiously, and their gazes met as an eyebrow rose in question. She hadn't shared her suspicion with the blonde.

She huffed, warily watching as Emma understood the unspoken request and crossed the distance between them in a few, short strides. "Your magic," she began, speaking before Emma could voice the question that remained in her eyes. "The way you described it—it feels the same as the magic in me now, and I thought maybe if I treated it the same, I'd be able to conjure something as easily as you used to."

Emma chewed the inside of her cheek. The oddness of having magic not her own inside of her aside, she had an inkling for why Regina's logical approach to the situation was—not so much wrong, as it was uninformed. All magic needed motivation—an emotion strong enough to call it forth, and while most chose to harness their anger, Emma never embraced her negative emotions.

She pushed them away, buried them until they overwhelmed her and came out in a more controlled way. She brooded, she shouted, she lashed out with fists and sometimes weapons, but she never once unleashed magic on someone in anger. Anger could summon her magic to the surface, but that emotion was always weak—suppressed inside of her. She hated the feeling of it and what she was capable of under its thrall.

With a loud puff of air through her nose, she averted her gaze. "You need to be calm—tranquil," she said, allowing no time for a response as she continued. "If my magic is inside of you, then anger won't be enough."

At Regina's silence, she sighed and gathered her courage. "You need to feel at peace," she explained, returning her gaze. "Anger suits you, you can focus when you're pissed off—I can't."

"Oh," Regina breathed, surprised as she stared back down at her hand, a thoughtful look upon her face.

For an Evil Queen, peace was not a concept easily grasped but for a woman in love? She was well acquainted with the feeling. She would definitely have a talk with her wife about keeping such an important distinction secret, but if peace was what she needed, then that was what she'd use. She stepped forward and took hold of Emma's hands, ignoring the look of confusion she received as she turned and pulled her arms tight about her body.

Assuming she was right about their magic switch and it worked, Emma would understand soon enough.

Closing her eyes, she laid one hand across the arms over her stomach, holding out the other as she leaned back in the embrace and zeroed in on the sensations that started forming in her chest. Emma realized what she was doing and Regina sank deeper into the hold, feeling the brush of a cheek against her own and smiling as lips lightly caressed her jaw.

Memories of similar moments filled her head—of kisses that required no thought, given in passing when one or both had matters to attend and no time to stop to enjoy each others company. She remembered surprises and gifts bestowed by her Knight for little or no reason, as well as mornings and nights spent wrapped in an embrace much like the one they shared now.

The magic swelled inside of her until it burst, rippling through her body in waves and bringing to mind that of the ocean's surface breaking as Henry's exclamation of, "Cool!" reached her ears. Her smile widened and she opened her eyes, feeling the weight in the palm of her hand.

"That's my girl," Emma whispered and Regina spun, tossing the candy bar in her hand to their son before she wrapped arms around her wife's neck and kissed her soundly on the mouth.


	10. Chapter 10

Mary-Margaret straightened in her seat and her breath hitched, overcome with feelings of warmth, love—passion, rolling through her, beckoning for her to relinquish control and be swept up in the current. The children in her class gasped, their excited murmurs filling her ears as her eyes fell shut and memories of a time long ago overwhelmed her every sense.

She remembered her husband and his first confession of love; the declaration falling thoughtlessly from his lips with his shaggy, unkempt hair and dimpled grin filling her mind. She remembered a mother wronged and an enemy gained—pleas for forgiveness and a hesitant friendship turned sisterhood. She remembered Emma—sweet, protective, _relentless_ Emma who once sacrificed everything to save her.

Opening her eyes, Snow White felt her lips curl in a slow, satisfied smile and reached for the phone in her purse.

* * *

 

Across town, David paused, his hand stilling mid-stroke as it fell to the silken coat of the feline sat on his table.

Memories tumbled into his head; the face of his True Love, as pale in death as it had been in life, the image fading to black only to be replaced by his beautiful wife, Mary-Margaret. He saw the distress wearing on the face of a once Evil Queen, torn between heartbreak and absolute, breathless terror before his thoughts turned to the reunion of brother and sister, and the look of confusion on Emma's face when Regina introduced them.

As his phone started to ring, Prince Charming retrieved it from his back pocket and smiled down at the name flashing across the screen. "They found each other, Snow," he said upon bringing it to his ear, and grinned as his wife chuckled.

"Indeed they have, my love."

* * *

 

A surge of immeasurable power; that was all he felt.

Rumplestilskin closed his book and turned to the cabinet behind him, his movements precise—premeditated. He didn't know how long he would have to wait, but he knew this moment would come and he was prepared for it.

Thoughts of day old threats and women scorned were forgotten as he retrieved the shawl from within the glass case and wrapped it about his neck, lifting his cane from the counter before crossing to the door of his shop.

With one last look back, his eyes landed on the still spinning globe, and he smirked.

_Soon, my son._

* * *

 

Regina pulled back, eyes wide as she broke from the kiss. Her emotions were all over the place, knowing what she had inadvertently done in her moment of spontaneity. She was happy—ecstatic that their love was confirmed true, heart swelling inside her chest even as panicked thoughts began to swell in her mind. They weren't prepared for what was to come—but Emma still loved her. Rumplestiltskin succeeded—but for once in her life, she'd believed in someone and wasn't left heartbroken as a result.

"Did you…" Emma trailed off, shaking the confusion from her expression. "We broke it?"

Regina nodded. She could feel the strain of her nails digging into the jacket beneath her hands, as if wanting to tear through the leather, yet Emma didn't appear in the least bit fazed by the crushing grip on her shoulders as a deep, amused chuckle rumbled up from her throat and into the air.

Blinking rapidly, exasperation fuelled the next few seconds as Regina released the hold she had on Emma and shoved her in the chest. "This isn't funny," she growled, folding her arms across her chest as she watched Emma stumble backwards before righting herself.

"Oh come on," Emma argued, stifling another chuckle. "You spent half the morning insisting we forget about kissing for a while so we didn't accidentally break the curse, and you expect me not to laugh right now?"

Eyes narrowed, Regina took a step forward and extended a hand, poking her in the chest. "I expect you to consider the consequences," she said with a scowl. "There is an entire town out there who weren't involved in the decision to cast my curse, recovering their memories."

As much as it was her fault for the situation they found themselves in, she couldn't help but be angered by Emma's thoughtlessness. "Do you think they're all laughing? Do you think the Dark One is standing in his shop, having a good giggle?" She shook her head and stepped back with a sigh, wishing for once that her wife would _think_ before she spoke.

"We're in danger, Emma. Right now, what I expect is for you to take this seriously. "

Emma pulled her lower lip between teeth, realizing her mistake. She hadn't meant to upset her wife—at least, not to the extent she so obviously had. She wasn't stupid. She knew that with the curse broken people would be coming after them and they'd need to come up with a plan to protect themselves, but at the same time; Regina _had_ spent their entire shower together ensuring neither of them gave in to the desire to kiss and…

It was funny, regardless of the death glare she was leveled with as she gave into the humor of the situation and grinned. "I am married to a child," Regina huffed, nudging her aside with a hip as she crossed the lawn to their son and placed a hand on his shoulder.

Graham and Emma watched as she guided Henry into the house before turning to each other. "You should be more careful," he warned, his tone teasing. "You've already taught her how to access your magic, and I've been told fireballs hurt."

Emma sighed. He had a point and even if Regina couldn't be angry at the time, she had no doubt her wife would have no qualms with calmly setting her on fire. "You're such a mood killer," she retorted, shaking her head at him in mock disappointment before trailing after her wife, his laughter at her back.

Walking into the kitchen, she frowned at not seeing Regina or Henry there and continued through the house. When she reached the foyer, she heard Regina's voice from the den and paused near the entryway, tilting her head as she listened to her wife explain to Henry what the breaking of the curse meant, patiently answering his questions while reassuring him.

In moments like these, just listening to the two of them talk, Emma couldn't help but smile. It was both a feeling of happiness and sadness that gripped her, realizing she had given Regina this; someone she loved who loved her in return. He was only a child, but Regina was still able to confide in Henry in ways she hadn't be able to with anyone else and Emma was glad for her but at the same time; she had missed so much.

Their child should have been raised by both of them, surrounded by friends and family who would dot on him the same, if not more than Regina clearly did. She wouldn't change it for the world, not after seeing them together, but it reminded Emma that it was one more piece of their life among a list of many in which Rumplestiltskin had stolen from them.

Nostrils flaring at the thought, she strode toward the front door, dismissing the longing she had to join them. She heard Regina speak her name, but ignored it too as she gripped the handle and tugged open the door, coming face to face with a surprised Snow White and Prince Charming.

Snow lowered the hand she'd readied to knock and before Emma had time to process, she was pulled into an embrace she had no chance of escaping. "We thought you were gone forever," Snow sobbed and Emma winced as the hand she knew belonged to her lump of a brother thumped her on the back.

David grinned as she glared at him over Snow's shoulder. "Never doubted you for a second, kid," he said.

Emma grimaced, reaching behind and prying the hands from her back as she freed herself from an embrace she knew would last a lifetime if she let it. "Don't start that shit again, I'm ten years older than you now."

"Wow," Snow breathed, surprised. "It's been that long?"

"Longer," Regina interrupted, snaking her arms around Emma's waist as her chin came to rest on a shoulder. "Turns out Emma vacationed in Neverland with Captain Hook for the other ten."

"Twenty years then."

"Well done, Charming," Regina drawled. "You can do basic maths."

"Be nice," he chided playfully. "We're family, and my heart's already broken in half."

Regina flashed him a smile full of teeth, pulling Emma back to allow them in as she informed, "If you're hoping I've developed a sense of guilt after all these years, _brother_ , sorry to disappoint."

"Ah well," he shrugged, cheeks dimpling with another grin as he followed Snow inside. "At least you're sorry; it's a start."

Regina chuckled and placed a hand on Emma's shoulder when she moved to follow them, squeezing, waiting until David and Snow disappeared into the den before she spoke. "You are fortunate they showed when they did," she purred, molding to her back. "If you were about to do what I think you were, that would have been monumentally stupid."

"He needs to pay for what he did," Emma growled, breathe hitching in the next instant as a hand curled around her throat and tilted her head back.

"And he will," Regina assured, the nail of her thumb pressing beneath her chin. "But we need a plan and when we decide to go after him, it will not involve you getting yourself killed in the process. I refuse to lose you—not now, not ever again. Am I understood?"

Emma swallowed, suddenly aware of what voice was in her ear. The Evil Queen rarely made an appearance, but when she did, Emma knew she was in trouble. "Yes," she croaked, stomach fluttering as the hand gripped her chin, forcing her head to the side before Regina claimed her mouth.

Kissing Regina was always mind-blowing. Emma would bask in the love she'd feel—the tingle beneath her skin that if left to simmer long enough, would consume her from the inside out and lead them into a night of passion. Kissing her Queen, though—kissing the Evil Queen was a shattering of the senses.

Love and tenderness were nothing more than far-fetched dreams, soon pushed aside for the reality of the hunger with which Regina devoured her mouth. She licked, she nibbled, she sucked as the hand holding her captive flexed with barely restrained desire. Emma was helpless against those kisses, left panting and struggling to control the need that built up inside of her when the inevitable happened.

Regina smirked as she pulled away, seeing the effect she had on her Knight and swelling with pride at the look of yearning Emma wore. "Good girl," she said before retreating, leaving Emma to recover on her own as she sauntered into the den.

* * *

 

Hours passed before Regina finished explaining to David and Snow everything that happened, from the day Emma disappeared up until their conversation regarding Baelfire. Graham eventually joined them, plopping down on the couch beside the woman he considered a sister without so much as a hello. Snow had squealed in surprise, and then happiness before she threw herself at him, almost taking them both to the floor in force.

Emma barely paid the conversation any mind, more intimate with the details than she wanted to be. She eventually left the three of them to it, easily convincing Henry he would have more fun playing video games with her than he would hearing about her boring adventures. It didn't stop him from asking her questions, not that she'd expected it to.

If he shared any of her traits, it definitely wasn't his seemingly endless curiosity and she'd just finished telling him the story of the first time she held a sword when David walked in. "Did she tell you how she stabbed herself in the foot?" he asked, taking a seat at the end of the bed.

Henry grinned and Emma rolled her eyes. She hadn't just _told_ him, she'd also sat there for at least ten minutes listening to him laugh at her afterwards. "I was seven," she defended, glaring at David before fixing it on her son. "And if you start teaming up on me with him, like you do with your mother, I'm going to ground you… forever."

He raised his hands in surrender, a look that screamed _would I do that_ plastered across his face as she shook her head, smiling softly—affectionately. How could she not? If she knew one thing for certain, it was that he got that look of innocence straight from Regina, and they both knew how to use it to great effect.

With a sigh of feigned exasperation, she turned back to David who was watching them with a smile of his own. "Did Regina tell you everything?"

He nodded.

"And?" she prompted.

"I have questions," he admitted, shrugging. "They can wait for the time being. I came up here to tell you that Snow and I were thinking of calling a meeting before the town decide to do something stupid. We want Regina there, which means you need to be there as well."

"I'm more concerned with Rumplestiltskin than those idiotic peasants," she replied, lips curling in a sneer at the simple utterance of his name.

"Regina implied as much, which is also why I came up here. She thought you might take the news better from me."

Her brow rose in question. "What news?"

"Red called a few minutes after you came upstairs," he said and her eyes narrowed as he braced himself. "She saw him leaving town."

The anger festering inside of her grew and Emma clenched her jaw as magic, foreign to her in its abruptness, surfaced for the first time. She tried to control it, to push it back down but soon realized the effort pointless and made a grab for her son, tucking him into her side as she channeled her magic into the hand not holding him and pointed it at the door.

A loud crack filled the room and David launched himself across the short space between them, doing his best to cover them both as the door exploded in a shower of splinters and debris that rained down on them. Emma hissed and gritted her teeth as something pierced the skin of her thigh and as swift as it had come, the magic dissipated, leaving a feeling of emptiness in its wake.

Disregarding the pain and the footsteps she could hear rushing up the stairs, she turned to Henry whose body trembled against her. "Hey," she murmured, running fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

He clung to her even tighter and she sighed. She wasn't used to comforting people, at least not anyone besides Regina, and certainly not children. She turned to her brother, catching sight of the two women stood gaping in the doorway before she noticed his grimace. "Are you alright?"

David smiled, his expression strained. "I think some of it went into my back," he said and waved his hand. "I'll live." Snow hurried in to help him stand and led him from the room, fussing as she was known to do, as Emma met the dark look from her wife and dread pooled in her stomach.

Regina stepped aside to allow Snow and David to pass before moving into the room, eyes drifting to their son, seeing that he was safe before returning her attention to Emma. "What happened?" she questioned, kneeling at her feet.

"David told me," Emma started to explain, "About Rumple, I mean. I got angry and your magic—"

"Surprised you," Regina concluded with a sigh. "I didn't think—I should have warned you," she said, placing a hand on her thigh and frowning when Emma winced.

"What…" She trailed off, staring down at the blood seeping through Emma's jeans. "You're hurt."

It was then that Henry loosened his hold on her and opened his eyes. Before either of them could stop him, he scrambled from the bed and ran out of the room. Emma opened her mouth, to tell Regina to go after him but stopped when he reappeared seconds later, first-aid kit in hand.

Emma shook her head, smiling as she side-glanced Regina. "Are we sure he's mine?"

"With his appetite?" Regina smirked. "He is definitely yours, my love."


	11. Chapter 11

Due to their magical switch, Regina refused to delve into the healing arts and Emma had to limp her way downstairs. Her leg was bandaged a few inches above the knee, bound far too tight to be anything but uncomfortable. Regina was no expert at first aid by any stretch of the imagination, but Emma had decided that due to the circumstances leading up to her predicament, she wasn't in any position to complain. Her discomfort was penance for losing control as she had, at least that was what she told herself, more concerned with checking on her brother than throwing herself a pity party.

David laid stretched out across the sofa on his stomach. He flashed her a smile as she entered the den, head resting atop his bicep. Snow knelt at his side, patiently removing the last of the splinters from his back while Regina fussed over them from above. Emma soaked in the image, cheeks dimpled in a grin that refused to be denied in the mere seconds she tried to resist.

Regina spotted her first, a brow rising in question and Emma flushed. The feelings she was experiencing in that moment were foreign to her. She supposed it was only natural, given she spent a good portion of her life as a stranger who yearned for things like love, family, and somewhere to call home. Here was her wife, her brother and a sister who sometimes reminded her of her mother. She shared a son with the woman of her dreams, who loved her despite the fact she'd abandoned them. It couldn't be helped. She had everything she wanted, and everything she hadn't known she wanted until she drove over the line that led her into the arms of her little make-shift family.

Letting out the breath she'd been holding, she crossed the room to where Regina stood behind the couch and wrapped an arm about her waist. She stared down at her brother, wincing at the wounds made more visible from her new vantage point. "You alright?" she asked as he turned his head to look up at her.

"I've had a lot worse than this," he reminded her. She nodded, unable to shake the guilt she had. Numerous scars proved his claim—from sword wounds, to magic burns and the small puncture in his left shoulder from when Snow had shot him with an arrow by accident.

The difference was; none of those scars came from her, accident or otherwise. "Still," she said after a few minutes of silence. "I'm sorry. I hadn't meant to lose control like that."

"I'm fine, Emma," he assured her as he rose from the couch, ignoring the protests of his wife. "Besides, you'd feel worse if it was Regina or Henry, so… kind of glad it was me."

"I don't know how much more badly I can feel than I do," she sighed, taking little comfort in the fingers that glided over her back and slipped beneath her shirt to curl around a hip. Even as she said the words, she knew he was right and she felt terrible simply admitting it to herself.

He was her brother and she shouldn't prefer the suffering of one over another but the truth was, she did. The thought of hurting Regina or, god forbid, their son was inconceivable. She wouldn't forgive herself, nor could she live with the guilt after the fact. Simply thinking about it caused a deep ache within her chest, one she tried erase with the palm of her hand.

"Enough of this," Regina said, bringing a faint smile to Emma's lips. Bossy as ever, was her Queen, though she wasn't about to complain as a semi-apologetic kiss was pressed to her cheek. "We have a town meeting to announce."

"We should probably handle that," Snow spoke up as she gestured to herself and David.

Regina inclined her head. "I was going to suggest as much," she admitted. "Perhaps Ms. Lucas could spread the news while the six of us sit down for lunch. Assuming you two planned on staying, that is."

"As if we'd give up the chance to eat your food," David scoffed, grinning as Regina rolled her eyes and Snow chuckled her agreement.

"Of course," she drawled. "What was I thinking?" Shaking her head, she released her hold on Emma and moved toward the foyer. "My love, be a dear and retrieve your brother a shirt while I go make us something to eat."

Not waiting for a response, she rounded the corner and disappeared from sight. Emma frowned, wondering how she'd accomplish such a feat before she remembered Graham was staying with them and snapped her fingers. "Back in a sec," she said, pausing in the doorway and looking back as she heard Snow's comment to David.

"Go with her. I'll call Red and then see if Regina needs any help in the kitchen."

David nodded and Emma grimaced, too slow to turn and avoid seeing them kiss. She startled as a hand came down on her shoulder and David spoke, "Come, little sister."

"Older than you," she reminded him, slapping at his hand with an added, "Little brother."

"Born before you," he retorted in a sing-song voice. "I win."

Laughing, she rolled her eyes and shoved him as he tried to bump shoulders. Nausea aside, there was no denying she missed him almost as much as she'd missed her wife; he was still the immature pain in her ass she remembered from twenty years ago.

* * *

Standing on stage, overlooking the residents of her town, Regina swallowed. She wiped her palms against her slacks, something she found herself doing all throughout the confession Snow and David had delivered minutes earlier. She was nervous, there was no way around the feeling. It was a strange sensation, but with a single look to her right where Emma stood, the tension had already begun to drain from her body and she allowed herself a moment to study the people sat in the front row.

Most wore open, curious expressions but a few struggled not to outright scowl up at her in anger. She couldn't blame them. She had honestly expected a lot more rage directed her way, but very few seemed to feel that way in reality. Some of these people deserved to want her dead, considering everything she had taken from them. The support she had from their King and Queen had placated the majority, however, and her concern for their backlash almost seemed comical at that point.

As she wiped her hands for what had to be the hundredth time, she jumped a little as Emma reached for one. Her body shuddered with the intensity of her sigh and she entwined their fingers, offering her wife a small smile before she turned back to the crowd and cleared her throat. "I imagine some of you are feeling far less calm than you appear," she acknowledged the few residents she could see having a hard time reigning in their emotions.

"Your King and Queen did something truly selfless," she continued, pausing to glance over a shoulder to where Snow and David sat, smiling back at her, before she turned back. "I have gained much from your loss and for that, I am deeply sorry but I cannot ask your forgiveness. Rumplestiltskin stole my wife from me, and I did what needed to be done to prevent the past from repeating itself. Our son has returned to me my True Love and for them I cannot—will not regret what I did."

Voices rose and she dipped her head, squeezing the hand in hers as she felt the body tense beside her. "Leave them," she murmured, quiet so that only Emma would hear. There was no love lost between her and these people and their outrage meant little to her. She had told them the truth, as she promised David and Snow she would, and that was all there was to it.

"Enough!" David shouted as he rose from his seat.

Silence fell and Regina turned to her brother-in-law, her surprise at the outburst and the affection she had for him locked in a battle of strength. David was always the calm one, slow to anger unlike his wife. Snow had always jumped to her defense, even in the early days when she didn't completely trust her. She was a firm believer in second, third—fifth chances. If an ounce of good existed in someone, Snow would defend them to her dying breath.

Watching David stare down those who'd dared to stand until they fell back to their seats, Regina was seeing an entirely new side to him. The day she held his heart in her hand, she'd felt his love for her but this was the first time she'd seen it manifest. If he had magic, she was certain he would have leveled the town hall with the anger pouring from him in spades.

"You all sit here and judge her. You demand things from her you have no right to demand. None of you know what she has had to survive, or how much she  _deserves_ your forgiveness whether she asks for it or not."

David sighed as he came to stand next to her and Regina grabbed his hand. He opened his mouth to continue, but was silenced as she squeezed and offered him another smile. She could take it from there. "We came here to explain," she said, chin rising as she spoke. "To warn you. I could have waited, left you to form your mob and come to my home. To scare my child and risk the wrath of my Knight, but I possess no ill will toward any of you."

With Emma on her left, and David on her right, her nerves started to unwind and the Queen began to emerge, back straight as her confidence returned. Storybrooke was her town and the only person she had to answer to was herself. "The longer I stand here, the more I realize how little you have actually lost. We locked away memories of a world where death and decay ran rampant, and you would all sit here demanding justice for… what? Providing you a longer life? A life of equality without poverty, starvation—war?"

"What of our freedom, Your Majesty? You stole that from us."

Regina laughed, eyes zeroing in on the dwarf sitting in the front row. She should have known; if anyone within their little town had the balls to stand up to her, it would be Leroy. He was a staunch supporter of Snow White, in everything she did, but he never had been one to approve of the friendship they'd built and took almost every opportunity presented to him to challenge the so-called Evil Queen.

"Your entire existence was that of a slave, hatchling. You were bound to a pickaxe..." Even he was not significant enough in her eyes to deserve her anger, neither now nor when she cast the curse and as she spoke, she started to feel more like herself than she had in a long while.

"Your sole purpose was to mine dust for the fairies in a life of servitude." She scoffed. She enjoyed a challenge more than most, but the nerve he possessed to challenge her on this was unbelievable. "Here, you have your own house—a job, and I believe you are dating Nova; your very own True Love. What freedom did I steal from you, Dreamy?"

When no answer was forthcoming, she smirked, gaze drifting out across the hall. "For twenty years, I remembered." She released Emma and David, taking a step forward. "I suffered this curse of memories, of loss and unhappiness while all of you lived two decades of blissful ignorance, with your families and the people you love. My…"

She paused to look back at Emma who wore an expression of pride, her lower lip tucked between perfect teeth. "Our son," Regina corrected, "was a small beacon of light in a world of darkness for me. I was losing control, floundering—ready to give up, and then he brought his mother to me. In that world, in the Enchanted Forest where that was not possible; I would have become the monster you all remember. If anyone is to blame for what  _we_ have lost, then you need look no further than Rumplestiltskin."

* * *

Off to the side and out of the way, Emma stood, arms folded as she leaned back against the wall and watched Snow, David and Regina converse with the town. She was proud of her wife. That was the woman she remembered; the no nonsense Queen who, with the perfect mix of rationale and underlying threat, could put the strongest of men and women in their place. Most people had left not too long after learning the Dark One had fled town, but the ones that remained were crowded around the three monarchs, offering thanks, forgiveness and whatever else they deemed the King and Queens worthy of.

Emma was considering slipping out, going down to the docks for a little time to herself when she spotted him. Frankenstein. Her anger flared and she felt the magic gathering beneath the surface, but rather than lash out, she ground her teeth as she pushed from the wall and stalked over to him.

With his back turned to her, he didn't see her approach and shouted his surprise as she grabbed him by the back of the neck. Last time she had seen him, he'd been little more than skin and bones as he'd been left to rot down in the Evil Queen's dungeon and, as far as she was concerned, a life sentence meant a life sentence.

She was halfway out the door with him in tow when a voice stopped her in her tracks. "Emma…" Turning, she met her Queen's gaze with one of curiosity. "Let him go."

Emma frowned, her grip tightening as she ignored his hiss of pain. Frankenstein had manipulated Regina and used her for his own selfish gain. Emma was forced to kill Daniel because that monster had turned him into a mindless puppet, the last thing she was going to do was let him go. He deserved as much suffering, if not more, than what he'd put Regina through and if she had her way, she would make him  _beg_ for death before happily granting it.

The small crowd around Regina dispersed and she started walking toward Emma. "That was not a request, soldier," she said, voice hardening with each word. "Release him."

Jaw clenched, Emma shoved him and her hand fell to her side as he stumbled forward. Regina caught him by the shoulders. "You may wish to give my wife a wide berth for a while," she suggested, turning and pushing him toward the exit.

He nodded and Emma frowned again as she watched him scurry off without word, her head tilted in bemusement. The doctor she remembered had been loud and obnoxious, never short of words to throw around. He almost seemed—neutered. She inhaled sharply as her gaze snapped back to her wife.

Regina inclined her head, confirming the silent accusation. She had taken his heart. "Well," Emma murmured, erasing the remaining distance between them as she placed her hands on hips and tugged Regina against her. "I suppose this means I won't need to stalk him later."

"I think you've sufficiently scared him," Regina complimented with a grin and quick brush of lips. "A lot changed in the months before the curse. When David and Snow convinced me to cast it, I agreed to release all the prisoners in exchange for their hearts. I knew the curse would break eventually—whether through Rumple or some other means—and I thought I might need insurance against anyone senseless enough to retaliate for their supposedly undeserved sentences."

"That is another of the many things we still need to discuss," Snow said, coming up behind them. She lowered her voice and reminded the dark Queen, "Not all of those hearts belong to former prisoners."

Regina sighed, releasing Emma as she turned to face the woman. "As I told you when we last had this conversation; none of the hearts I possess belong to anyone able to claim innocence."

Despite their friendship and the years before the curse, Snow White remained—at her very core—a  _good_ person and Regina knew no matter what she said or did, she would always be reminded of the fact she herself was anything but. She had no desire, absolutely none, to return the hearts she held to their rightful owners. Most of those she had belonged to her personal guard and while she may have no need of them in Storybrooke, she had every intention of returning to Misthaven with Emma and Henry.

"Maybe we should leave this conversation for another time," David suggested, glancing around at the townspeople that still lingered behind.

Regina felt a small portion of relief even as she shook her head at him. "If you insist," she conceded, another sigh slipping passed her lips. She would not leave her family unprotected in a world proven intent on destroying the things she loved and if that meant embracing a few of her old ways, there was nothing that would stop her from doing so, least of all the moral high ground of those two idiots.

"But know that nothing you say will change my..." she stalled at the sound of the doors flying open and her eyes narrowed, Emma's gasp sounding next to her as she took in the sight of the man who entered.

"Hello loves."


	12. Chapter 12

Looking the pirate over, Regina remembered what Emma had said of their time together and dismissed her instinctual response to remove him from sight. Before Neverland and Emma reciting her tales, she'd had a pleasant number of decades pretending his presence in her life when under the thumb of her mother had been nothing more than a bad dream.

Despite the years that had passed, however, she easily spotted the number of differences in him and was immediately curious. "What happened to you?" She gestured to the most glaring difference; the patch covering his left eye. "One of your many drunken whores finally get the better of you?"

He smirked. "Now love, we both know I need no assistance to charm the skirts from women." His smirk softened to a smile as his gaze fell upon Emma and Regina watched, her suspicion rising as he swaggered toward her wife. "I see our mutual friend kept his promise after all."

When Regina sensed the magic swirling in the air, she hesitated to step between them. Emma had yet to tell her of all the things she'd done in Neverland and she had no idea if her wife's bubbling anger was warranted. Surprisingly, Killian's smile never once faltered as he found himself suspended at least three feet from the ground, but that seemed the extent of what Emma was going to do as she stared at him.

"Emma…" Snow spoke softly, a plea that Emma dismissed, raising her other hand in a bid for silence.

"A prudent question…"

Killian chuckled and replied, "Is one-half of wisdom."

Regina cocked an eyebrow and glanced between the two, equal parts confused and curious. Emma's lips quirked with the beginnings of a grin. "Glory is fleeting…"

"…but obscurity is forever."

Where anger existed only seconds prior, amusement replaced it and Regina could hear the laughter in her voice as Emma continued their odd little exchange. "I believe in luck," she said and Killian laughed.

"How else can you explain the success of those you dislike?"

Emma lowered him to the floor, stunning none more than her wife as she embraced the pirate. There was definitely a story there, and Regina intended to find out what it was. "What in the seven hells was that?"

Killian patted Emma on the back before he released her and looked to Regina with a grin. "Your wife and I grew rather fond of one another while running for our lives, Your Majesty."

Regina frowned, glaring at the back of a blonde head as Emma refused to turn around. She could feel her anger rising swiftly, as it seemed yet another secret was kept from her. Killian spoke before she had the chance to question her wife. "Am I missing something?"

"Given your earlier greeting, I assume this mutual friend you spoke of was the Dark One's son," Regina said from between clenched teeth. "In which case, I sincerely doubt any promises he made were honored."

Killian eyed the two women and before she realized what it was he was doing, he had one arm around her shoulders while the other draped over Emma's. Thoroughly thrown off-guard, Regina allowed him to lead them from the room before sense finally caught up to her and she shoved him away from her.

"Still not the touchy feely type," Killian commented, flashing a smile to Emma who'd caught him around the waist and stopped him from stumbling into the wall. "Noted."

Eyes narrowed, Regina refused to respond. She could already feel the familiar ache behind her eyes that signaled the usual headache she received when dealing with him. Between Killian Jones and Snow White, she'd be hard pressed to decide which of them annoyed her more. If he hadn't proven useful to her when she was Queen, she would have killed him long before she'd met Emma.

"Emma," Killian drawled, snapping Regina from her thoughts. Emma was chewing on her lip before she released a puff of air through her nose and met his gaze. "Did you not tell our Queen of our little misadventures and the strong, loving bond we formed? I'm hurt."

"You will be if you don't shut up," Emma muttered and rolled her eyes. She groaned, knowing she would have to explain before Regina got the wrong idea. "He saved me, alright?"

"Three times," Killian added, smirking at the glare Emma sent him. He shrugged his shoulders at Regina who in turn scowled, though he ignored it. "Hubris, this one. You were saying something about Baelfire not keeping his promise? I would like to know more of this."

Regina felt her nostrils flare. Who the hell did this man think he was? "What business is it of yours?"

Fingers tapping against his chin, Killian sauntered closer. "Well you see, Your Majesty," he leaned in to whisper. "I made a promise of my own."

Brow raised, Regina folded her arms across her chest. As much as she would rather him as far from her and her wife as possible, she couldn't deny her curiosity. "Oh?"

"Perhaps there is somewhere more private we can go?" Regina followed his gaze to the doors of town hall where David, Snow and a few others had gathered. "Preferably somewhere with rum."

* * *

 

"It's not what you wanted, but it should get the job done," Emma said, handing Killian a glass before she rounded the table and sat down beside Regina. She wasn't looking forward to the approaching conversation, but she figured being drunk might help lighten the mood a little.

"Whiskey," Killian smirked, appraising the glass as he swirled the amber liquid. "Why am I not surprised?"

"What can I say?" Emma grinned and leaned back, capturing Regina's hand in her own and entwining their fingers as she spoke. "We don't do rum."

"If you two are quite finished," Regina snapped, snatching her hand back and distancing herself from her wife as she moved to another cushion. "Might one of you wish to explain what the hell is going on?"

Emma frowned as she turned her head, and flinched at the glare Regina had levelled her with. She sighed, running fingers through her hair as her shoulders slumped. "This might be easier if you told us what you want to know."

"Everything," Regina replied with a scowl.

"Or not," Emma muttered and leaned forward, downing her own drink before she sat the glass on the table and fell back against the couch. She supposed the beginning would be as good as start as any and began speaking. "When Rumple pushed me through the portal, I had nothing. I didn't know where I was—who I was. I woke up on a beach, trees on one side and an ocean that stretched forever on the other. My memory was non-existent and the only thought I had was a name…"

_Upon learning who the man behind the name was, Emma wanted to know everything. It was all she had and she grabbed whatever threads the pirate was willing to throw her way. She had a name, a relation, a destination for where it was she may have come from. It was more than she had a few hours ago, but when she asked for help finding this Baelfire, the pirate shook his head._

_"I can't help you."_

_"But you know who he is," she protested. If anyone could help her track the man down, surely it was the person who seemed to know him._

_"Aye," he agreed, eyes downcast as he fiddled with the handle of the tankard. "The man you're looking for is as good as dead, love."_

_"Meaning he isn't," she pushed and he sighed._

_"Meaning," he corrected, meeting her gaze. "He might as well be for all the good it does you."_

_Emma closed her eyes, shaking her head. She had to try to do something. Sitting there talking about this son of the Dark One wasn't helping her regain her memories. "Just tell me where to find him and I'll decide if he's worth saving."_

_"He isn't," the pirate insisted. "If he was, you'd be dead before you even laid eyes on him."_

_Hands fisted in her hair, Emma groaned and hung her head. "Why won't you help me?"_

_"Because I have been on the wrong side of Peter Pan more times than I care to count," he sighed. "I have no intention of risking my life, love, and neither should you."_

_Her head snapped up, a light in her eyes as she repeated the name. "Peter Pan," she echoed, smiling. If the man was someone to be afraid of, as the pirate seemed to imply, she was certain someone could tell her more about him._

_"Aye…" She stood before he could say any more, halfway to the door out of the tavern when he called her back, "Swan, wait."_

_Emma shivered, the name sounding familiar. She turned, eyebrow cocked as she questioned, "Swan?"_

_"Your necklace," he explained, gesturing at her chest with his hook as he stood and sauntered over. She glanced down at it in confusion. "Until you remember your name, I'll need something to call you."_

_"So you're coming now?" she asked, confusion slowly dissipating in favour of surprise._

_He shook his head and chuckled, "There is something about a woman who won't take no for an answer that brings out the adventurous fool in me."_

"Imagine my surprise when I found out I was hitting on the wife of the Evil Queen," Killian interrupted Emma's story with a grin. Fool didn't even begin to cover it.

Regina snorted. "From what I've heard, you weren't the only one."

Emma sighed at that and stood, crossing the room to the mantle where she refilled their glasses. Even if Regina had claimed to forgive her, she'd known her relationship with Baelfire would be a sore subject for a long time to come. Honestly, for someone who could hold a grudge for more than a decade, she'd expected Regina to mention it sooner, if not frequently, but that didn't mean it didn't bother her.

Just as reason didn't stop the pain from hurting, understanding had no bearing on the irritation she felt from being reminded, once again, that she'd done something wrong in the eyes of her Queen.

"Did she tell you she broke his nose?" Killian continued and Emma glanced over her shoulder, noting the amused twitch of dark lips as Regina replied.

"She did."

"Lad bled like a stuck pig," he boasted, as if it had been his fist she had thrown in Neal's face and not her own. Emma rolled her eyes. He was always doing that. He reminded her a lot of David in that way; gleefully idiotic and proud of her.

Walking back to them, three drinks in hand, Emma paused as Regina turned to her with a wry smile and said, "You have no idea how much that warms my heart. Shame I wasn't there to see it."

Killian chuckled as all three heads snapped up and around, pulled from the moment by the sound of the front door closing. Emma set their glasses in front of them and was about to find out who it was when Henry appeared, eyes darting straight to the chair in which Killian sat before his eyes fell on Regina.

"Mom?"

"Henry." Regina frowned, standing as she questioned, "What are you doing here?"

"I didn't want to stay with David and Snow," he replied, meeting her no more than a few steps into the room as Regina moved to stand in front of him and barred him from going any further. "David brought me home."

Giving up on trying to see the lad as Regina blocked his view, Killian turned his attention back to Emma. "I take it this is your son?"

Not missing the way her wife's shoulders tensed, Emma scowled. " _Our_ son," she snapped. If looks could kill, he'd be dead before the words even made it passed her lips. "Jackass."

"Forgive me, love." He raised hook and hand in surrender, genuine regret in his tone. "As the saying goes, I am somewhat out of the loop. What happened?"

She sighed, eyes cutting to the doorway just as Regina led Henry from the room. "Memory potion," she offered, shrugging as she threw herself back down on the couch and laughed grimly. "Although this time I was someone else; lots of memories, and none of them mine."

"Baelfire?" he assumed, brow raised.

She nodded. "The one and only."

"Son of a bitch."

Emma laughed again, this time a little more mirth in the sound as she reminded, "Son of the Dark One." Knowing what she knew now, what _Neal_ had done wasn't anything she wouldn't have expected had she known who he was from the start.

Killian knocked back his second glass of whisky and slammed it down on the table. Emma resisted a flinch at the sound and smiled, hearing the promise in his words as he vowed, "I will kill him."

Interrupted by the clearing of a throat, they both turned and Emma shivered at the touch of malice in her voice as Regina growled, "Get in line, pirate."

* * *

 

With Henry home, Regina decided the pirate's reminiscing with her wife could wait. She ordered Emma from the den and into the kitchen, volunteering her to be the one who cooked dinner while she kept their son occupied. Hook hung around like a bad smell, but he seemed to spend more of his time in the den with her and Henry, apparently having picked up on her unfavorable feelings regarding his _friendship_ with Emma.

Emma swore nothing had happened between them and Regina tried to convince herself her wife was telling the truth. She couldn't figure out if the reason she couldn't was because she was jealous, or if it was because she no longer trusted Emma enough to believe the things she said.

Part of her hoped it was the former even as a small voice whispered in the back of her mind that it was the latter. She'd chided the voice the moment it came, reminding herself that she'd forgiven Emma—that it wasn't her fault. Whatever happened between her and Baelfire was ancient history, but the doubts continued to eat away at her.

What if Rumple found his son? What if he brought him back to Storybrooke and Emma realized her feelings for him weren't gone? She would kill him, there was no doubt about that but if Emma still loved him, she knew she wouldn't survive the heartbreak, not again.

How many more secrets was Emma keeping from her? Was there someone else waiting in the shadows, waiting for a moment to appear and introduce themselves as yet another friend? Another lover?

When Emma called them all into the dining room for dinner, Regina sat at the head of the table and watched the two of them interact. They shared stories of their time together while Henry listened intently next to her, piping in with a question every once in a while.

The ease with which they spoke of their time in Neverland had her grinding her teeth, but when she learned Emma had almost died, her breath hitched and she dropped the glass in her hand as it shattered.

Emma shot up from her chair as wine soaked through Regina's shirt. Regina tried to swat her away, protesting that she was fine and she could heal the damage herself but Emma used her superior strength and tugged her to her feet before guiding her upstairs and into their bathroom.

Sat on the edge of the bathtub, she did her best not to wince as Emma carefully removed the shards from her hand. "I could do this with magic," she murmured somewhat petulantly. As used to pain as she should be, of both the physical and emotional variety, she still hated it.

Emma snorted. "In your current frame of mind? I don't think so."

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?" Regina hissed as her attempt to pull away backfired and Emma tightened her grip.

"You're upset with me," Emma stated, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You have my magic in you. You'd have more luck removing your hand than you would healing this."

As their eyes met for the first time since Emma man-handled her from the dining room, an ache bloomed within Regina's chest and she glanced away. She couldn't stand to see the pain in those eyes. "You almost died."

"Almost," Emma confirmed, raising a hand and cupping her cheek. Regina closed her eyes briefly before a thumb stroked her jaw, lashes fluttering open again as a sigh of relief fell from her lips. All she could see now was warmth and a soft, loving smile as Emma spoke. "And if not for Killian, I would have."

Regina huffed. She should have known Emma would see right through her. She always had, even when they were barely speaking to each other. "I feel like I don't know you anymore. What other surprises am I going to find down the road, Emma? Is there another child I don't know about? Have you sworn fealty to another? Do I need to prepare for war because you've promised your loyalty to some other Queen I don't know about?"

Rocking back on her heels, Emma stared up at her. "Do you have any idea how ridiculous you sound?" With a glare, Regina opened her mouth to retort, but Emma continued as if she hadn't noticed.

"We were going to tell you what happened, Regina. Henry came home and interrupted us, remember?" Emma shook her head and shifted to her knees, rising up as she dropped Regina's hand and lifted her own to cup both cheeks between her palms. "I may owe Killian my life, but my heart has always been yours; there is no one else, there has only ever been you."

Feeling her throat tighten as tears began to form in her eyes, Regina shook her head and ignored the pain in her hand as she grabbed both of Emma's wrists and forced them down. "I want to believe you."

Emma flipped her hands, reversing their hold as her fingers curled around Regina's forearms. "I wish you would, because the fact that you don't doesn't make it any less true."

Regina opened her mouth again but stopped, stunned into silence as Emma surged up and captured her lips. She inwardly sighed, reluctant to reject her wife despite her doubts as she returned the kiss. Her mind may not be made up, but her heart still warmed in recognition of her love.

When they broke apart, she allowed Emma to cup her cheek once more and even leaned into it, drawn to the determination in those emerald pools. "We're True Love, Regina, your doubts don't change that and as much as I know you hate when Fate dictates your life, we were always meant to be."

As she stood, Emma released her cheek and picked up her hand, running her fingers over the cuts of her palm. "I am yours and you are mine," she said, both watching as flesh knit seamlessly back together. "Now and forever."


	13. Chapter 13

Emma kept quiet as she left the house on Mifflin Street. After fixing up Regina's hand, she couldn't stomach the idea of playing happy family when it turned out they were anything but. Regina hadn't said a thing after confessing her doubt and though Emma took comfort in the fact she had reciprocated the kiss, her emotions were all over the place.

The kiss had assuaged her own doubts about their relationship, the doubts brought on by that confession. The love was still there, as abundant and as warm as it had ever been. Regina hadn't lost complete faith in her and it was more than she could have asked for. Despite that, she needed to get out, to escape for a while and gather her thoughts— her calm.

She hadn't put much stock in the magic switch thing previously, but healing Regina had her reconsidering a few things. It was clear to her Regina was right, or at least she was on the right track. Emma had no intention of healing her at first, not because she didn't want to but because she didn't trust herself to do it properly. Her first use of this new magic swirling inside of her had been in anger, it had been an accident; a loss of control that almost destroyed an entire wall of their son's bedroom.

If she'd done that to Regina's hand? She wouldn't be able to live with herself. Truth be told, she already found it hard to live with herself…

The magic had responded well to her rising anger, however. Before she could second guess herself, it was as though it had developed a mind of its own. It was different. It was still anger that fuelled her but it felt good to get it out, to channel the negative into something positive. It was thoughtless but selfless, and not only had it healed the woman she loved, it made her feel slightly better about their situation.

Thanks to their apparent switch, it didn't look as though she would be able to get away with brooding any more, but at least she didn't feel the guilt and self-loathing that gripped her when she'd scared Henry and injured her brother. She had left Regina in the bathroom, speechless and, by the expression that'd painted her face, shocked to see her own magic wielded with such finesse.

They would have to talk about it, of that Emma was certain. She knew Regina wouldn't wait forever regardless of their personal problems, and in time she would come looking for her. Regina, torn down to her base instincts, was far too curious not to and by wandering through town, headed straight for the forest, Emma had made it all too easy for her. She'd always had an affinity for nature. As a Bounty Hunter, she'd often spent her downtime out in the wilderness, enjoying what mother earth had to offer before she was inevitably called back to the real word to catch some scumbag who'd jumped bail and needed some sense beaten into them.

With no recollection of their world at the time, Emma hadn't known _why_ she was so drawn to the forests, the beaches, the mountains. Sometimes she'd find herself sitting on a dock for absolutely no reason, other than for the feeling of peace that washed over her when she looked out upon the ocean. She knew now that it was because it reminded her of home; forests as far as the eye could see and teeming with life. The port outside her favourite tavern, ships nestled in the harbour waiting for their captains to return as she stared up at the starlit sky, tankard in hand.

As much time as she spent fighting, the so-named Black Knight would have relished the quiet solitude of the wild even more than the bloodshed. Her Queen knew this, which was why it came as no surprise to her when she felt the quiet presence at her back.

"I remember those nights when we were barely speaking and I would walk out on to my balcony to stare down into my garden where I would find you brooding," Regina spoke softly, as if she was afraid Emma would run should she so much as raise her voice. "I can't imagine the amount of time I must have spent watching your silhouette, wondering how much distance my anger had put between us."

Emma smiled as her own memories of those nights surfaced. She had caught a glimpse of her voyeur once or twice, but she could never be certain it was Regina and not some maid come to change the sheets, or see to it that the room was in order before the Queen retired for the night. Her instincts always dismissed the possibility of it being someone else, as the feeling of those eyes following her every move were hard to mistake for another.

"I sometimes liked to pretend you weren't there," she replied, laughter in her voice as she recalled her younger self's idiocy. "I thought if I convinced myself that it was someone else, I could stay mad at you."

Regina chuckled and Emma turned at the sound so close to her ear, eyes drawn down to where arms were wrapped around a torso, hands sliding up and down biceps in an attempt to bring warmth. She rolled her eyes at her Queen's absentmindedness and removed her coat, draping it over shoulders and receiving a smile of gratitude in response.

"We know how that often worked out for you, don't we?" Regina pulled the coat tight about her body and glanced around at where they stood together. "I've never understood this fascination of yours with nature."

"No?" Emma snorted her disbelief. "I've seen the way you treat your beloved apple tree. Sometimes I wonder if I should be jealous with the attention you spend on it."

"It was a gift from my father," Regina countered, slight irritation in her voice despite the smile teasing the corners of her mouth. "Besides," she added as Emma forced her eyes away from the sight. "I didn't swear my undying devotion to my apple tree."

"True," Emma conceded, tilting her head back to stare up at the night sky. She looked longingly up at the stars, overcome by a sudden desire to return to that place she called home. She missed it more in that moment than she ever had. "Do you think now that the curse is broken, we can go back?"

"Henry certainly hopes so."

Emma picked up on her tone and turned to face her again, brow furrowing. "You don't want to go back?"

Regina shook her head. "I do," she replied before releasing a sigh. "Trapped in this town for all this time, with the exception of you, I have longed for nothing more."

"But," Emma prompted, knowing there was something missing.

"But without Rumple…" She scowled at his name, only to calm when Regina slipped a hand into her own. "Without him, I don't know how or even _if_ it's a possibility."

Emma huffed. Leave it to the imp to leave out crucial information. He likely assumed it would be enough to protect him should he return. It might work for Regina, but he was out of luck if he thought she was going to resist killing him the next time she saw him. No matter how her heart might yearn for home, it wasn't worth the chance to rid themselves of him.

"What about Hook?"

It was Regina's turn to scowl then and Emma couldn't help but smile. While her anger at Rumple was simply that, Regina's anger wasn't only about Killian, but her jealousy of him and the assumed bond Emma had with him. As absurd as it might seem to anyone else, Emma was glad for that feeling. Knowing Regina was jealous of someone she deemed too close to her was proof that she still loved her, and _that_ meant far more than everything else.

"His ship can travel between worlds," she continued after a short silence. She wasn't the only one who needed time to brood. "He once told me that was how he met your mother."

"I remember," Regina murmured with a nod. "He doesn't appear to be the same man I knew back then."

Emma chuckled. In the time she'd known him, Killian had changed more than she'd ever thought he could. "I think after 10 years on the run from Peter Pan, he decided there was more to life than loose women and getting drunk every night."

With a wave of her hand, Regina summoned a blanket beneath them and lowered herself to the ground. "Tell me the story," she said, patting the spot beside her.

"Most people think Neverland is just this island in the middle of nowhere with nothing more than jungle and unsupervised children running amok," Emma began, dropping next to her with a small wince. "There are villages, mostly built into the tree tops and when you reach the outer island, you'll find most of the towns but there is one town, bigger than all the rest that moves about once a month. The island is giant though, so you could make your way towards the town from one end of the island and by the time you got to where it was, it could have moved to where you started or somewhere else entirely."

"Is that not difficult for the people who live there?"

Emma shook her head. "Besides his prisoners, no one other than Peter Pan lives there permanently— it's kind of like a retreat for his _chosen_."

"I take it this is where you first found Baelfire?" Regina interjected and with another wave of her hand, summoned a flask that she drank from before passing it to Emma.

Accepting the flask and taking a sip, Emma nodded before she grimaced at the strong burn of vodka in her mouth and handed it back with a shudder. "The thing about the town though is when it moves, if you're not meant to be there at the time, it leaves you behind. We spent about three months looking for it the first time, then when we had to find it again, we lost another five."

Being in close proximity to one another and with the alcohol settling in her stomach, Emma began to warm up and stretched out, arms behind her as she extended her legs and crossed them at the ankles. "We managed to free Baelfire when we found him, but we got caught and ended up as prisoners for…"

She shrugged. After the first year, Pan realized what the marks on the wall of her cell were for and erased them; she gave up counting after that but knew it had to have been at least three years before the fairy sprang them. "When Tinkerbelle freed us—"

"Tinkerbelle?" Regina interrupted. Emma nodded and was about to continue, when she noticed her frown.

"What?"

Regina shook her head. "We…" She sighed and tipped her head back as she took another drink from the flask before running a thumb along her lower lip. "Tinkerbelle and I were friends for a time— when I was still married to the King."

"How did I not know this?"

Shoulders lifted in a shrug. "It wasn't really relevant by the time you and I met."

Emma hummed thoughtfully but pushed further questions to the side for the moment. If it wasn't relevant back then, then her curiosity could wait a while longer. "We escaped from the town but the villages were where the children lived, and they were under Pan's thumb for the most part. Killian and Baelfire were all for killing the ones that got in our way, but I couldn't and that was one of the times Killian saved me."

"What happened?"

"I turned my back on one and almost got a spear through my ribs. Killian caught it at the last second with his hook, then turned around and…" Emma closed her eyes, forcing the memory out of her head as she swallowed against the rising bile in her throat. "I'd rather not explain what he did."

"You realize some of those children were likely decades, if not centuries older than you."

"I came to that conclusion over time." Emma nodded. "But… if you'd seen some of their faces, I think even the Evil Queen would've hesitated."

"Even at my worst," Regina agreed, "I never harmed a child."

Emma nodded again. She knew that. Hell, she was there for a lot of it. "I know that," she said aloud, sitting up and running a hand over her face. "I just… I wasn't the Black Knight back then. I was… confused and couldn't even remember my own name let alone everything I did for you and Snow— my brother."

"You weren't a soldier," Regina supplied and Emma sighed, smiling faintly as she accepted the flask handed to her once more.

"Yeah, that."  She weighed the flask in her hand and frowned at its feeling of fullness as she questioned, "Is this self-refilling?"

When Regina simply smirked in answer, Emma's frown deepened as she tilted the flask, and chuckled at the initials she found engraved on the bottom. "You stole his flask?"

"He's busy bonding with our son." Regina shrugged. "I didn't think he'd need it."

"I'm more surprised that you're willing to drink out of it," Emma said, taking another swig before adding, "Or that you're _letting_ him bond with our son."

"I… admit that I realized I may have…" Regina rolled her eyes at her own hesitance and huffed. "I overreacted to your friendship with him, and for that I apologize."

"It isn't as if you didn't have reason," Emma pointed out, resigned but no less amused by the stilted confession.

"No, I—" Emma shot her a disbelieving stare and Regina sighed. "Well, _maybe_ ," she conceded, "but I realized you were right; we're True Love. If you didn't love me as you constantly remind me, then we never would have broken the curse."

"I think you mean _you_ never woul— " Regina interrupted her with a shove. "Hey!" Emma laughed, just barely getting a hand out in time to stop herself from toppling over and smacking her head against the ground. "Do you _want_ me to lose my memory again?"

Regina snorted.

* * *

 

"May we speak?"

Regina peered up from her book, knowing there was no one else around that the pirate could possibly be talking to. Emma and Henry were back up in his room, no doubt wasting their time on those video games and the mindless slaughter that so many of them gleefully promoted. In another hour or two, she would interrupt and send one— or perhaps both —to bed but for the moment, she was content to spend her own time catching up on her reading.

At least, that was what she intended when she'd arrived home in a somewhat happier mood than that she'd left, her grinning knight in tow. She sighed and exchanged the book for the wine glass beside her, gesturing to the seat opposite her.

Hook sat, a nervous looking smile on his face that had her rolling her eyes. "Whatever the reason for that smile, you best spit it out," she said, the threat clear in her tone. It wouldn't be the first time she'd lobbed a fireball at his head, nor did she think it would be the last.

"All this time and you haven't changed a bit, Your Majesty."

"You're still breathing," she drawled in contrary. Were she the woman he knew all those years ago, he would've been dead long before he first spoke.

"Touché," he conceded, his smile turning decidedly smug. "I thought perhaps it might be less… hazardous to explain the reason for why I am here to you, instead of Emma."

Regina bristled at hearing her name on his lips, and immediately scolded herself for the fact. She hadn't lie. She _had_ overreacted, and her apology to Emma had been genuine but— but there was a history between her and Killian that Emma knew nothing about and it would take her a considerable amount of time, certainly more than half a day, to sort through it all before she saw the man before her, rather than the one still embedded deep within memories from her past.

"Before you do that," she said, curiosity getting the better of her. "Care to tell me what that game was the two of you played when you arrived?"

"Did you know that I am originally from this world?"

Regina nodded and explained at his curious look. "I overheard it mentioned once while you were entertaining my mother."

He winced. "About that…"

"Do not," she warned, meeting his gaze. "You might think your words will earn you some degree of forgiveness, but I guarantee you that they will not. I am attempting to separate who you are from who you were, and it is in your best interest not to make that any harder than it already is by reminding me of the things you did. "

He held her stare for a moment before clearing his throat. "Fair enough," he said and looked away. "When we first rescued Baelfire, the freedom we thought we had didn't last…"

Regina sighed, releasing the breath she'd been holding at the thought of him ignoring her words. She wasn't entirely certain what would have happened if he had, but she knew that whatever it was would have involved an excruciating amount of pain.

"Emma said you were captured."

"We were," he confirmed, head dipping forward with a slight grimace, as if forcing the memory from somewhere he would've preferred not to delve. "A girl by the name of Wendy tricked us, told us she was new. She said Pan had stolen her from her home and she knew of a way back, but that she needed our help."

Regina frowned. "From what Emma has shared, you and Baelfire weren't all that fond of the children."

"She was one hell of an actress," he said, patting his pocket. Regina subtly flicked her wrist and his brow relaxed as he pulled the flask from his jacket. "Turns out _he_ was one hell of an actress."

Regina rolled her eyes, head shaking from side to side as he drank. It was no wonder Emma didn't want to go into details about their time in Neverland. She tried to play herself as entirely forthcoming with her stories, but Regina knew better.

Emma was many things but above all, she was a trickster at heart; a decent enough one, that she'd given Rumplestiltskin himself a run for his money a time or two. To learn that her impish wife had been bested by illusion magic— well, Regina was certain there was a level of embarrassment somewhere in that aversion Emma had to sharing their adventures with her.

"You came up with a game in order to prove to each other who you were," she said, easily connecting the dots after that.

"Aye," he replied. "We knew each other well enough by that point that we were confident we'd know if he was trying to trick us again by the responses we gave."

"Wisdom. Glory. Luck." Regina smirked as she remembered his own answers. "The three things you admire most, yet completely lack."

He tipped his flask in concession and then tipped it back, taking a hearty swig. "A fact made all the more obvious by my current circumstances."

"You mentioned you have a reason for being here," she said and he nodded. "What is it?"

"I made a deal with Pan," he confessed, eyes widening when she immediately stood and conjured a fireball in the palm of her hand. "You misunderstand."

Regina scowled. "Oh, I don't think I do."

"It wasn't for Emma," he quickly rushed to assure her and she hesitated, even more wary of him than before. No one who made deals could be trusted, and certainly not pirates who worked with people like her mother, and yet…

And yet, Emma trusted him. If she took a moment to consider what she knew— what Emma had said, and the way she treated him…

Emma loved the man. It was different from how Emma loved her but she wasn't blind. Emma spoke of Killian the same as _she_ spoke of Graham. There was something there— something genuine that made her feel as though she should trust him even when every thought, every memory she had of him screamed the exact opposite.

"Who?" she questioned, that same wariness filling her voice.

"Rumplestiltskin."

 


	14. Chapter 14

“Emma?”

At the sound of her name, Emma glanced up from the photos spread out in front of her. Regina stood just inside the door of her study, frowning as she took in the mess Emma had made. The memories she’d kept of her and Henry’s life together were laid out in what appeared to be chronological order, countless variations of the two of them staring up at her.

“You looked happy for a while,” Emma said, eyes falling to another photo seated in the palm of her hand. She held it up as Regina moved into the room for a better look, and a small smile danced over her lips as she recognized the moment.

“Henry was sick that day,” she replied, taking the photo from between slim fingers. She traced over the tired smile on her face. “David stopped by that afternoon, worried that I wouldn’t be sleeping because I’d be too busy worrying about him.”

Emma smiled. “He was right.”

Regina nodded. “He was.” She took a seat on the cushion closest to her and Emma leaned in, resting her head against a leg as Regina handed the photo back to her. “He practically carried me to bed after taking that photo, and demanded I get some sleep while he nursed Henry back to health.”

Emma chuckled softly.  “Sounds like him.”

Regina hummed, her mind still caught up in remembering that day. David reminded her so much of Emma that he often got away with things she might have killed someone else for. He had an abhorrent habit of sticking his nose in where it wasn’t wanted but somehow, by the end, she was left to wonder how she could have coped without him.

Clearing her throat, she pushed the memories away and weaved her fingers through the golden mane spilling down her thigh. “Your brother is as big a pain in the ass as you,” she teased and lightly tugged on a curl.

Beyond an amused huff, Emma stayed silent and Regina stared at the back of her head, a concerned frown contorting her brow. There was a melancholic vibe coming from her wife, and it made her chest ache with a need to _do_ something, to fix whatever was wrong.

“Why are you looking at these, my love?”

Emma shrugged. She wanted to know what she’d missed and if her family had been happy without her. To see that they had been for the most part was both a blessing and a curse. “No reason,” she lied, closing her eyes as Regina ran fingers through her hair. Regina had enough to deal with without her adding more problems to the pile.

Besides, her feelings were just another side-effect of having three different personalities living in her head. There was very little, if anything, that the Knight, the Amnesiac, or the Bounty Hunter had in common. She wasn’t a lost girl. She wasn’t unwanted, or unloved. She sure as hell had a lot more reason to be happy than the other two did.

“Why don’t I believe you?”

Half-smiling, she turned her head and looked up at her wife as she offered, “Because I’m a terrible liar?”

Regina snorted. “That must be it,” she agreed, mirth shining in her eyes for a split second before they hardened and she gave another tug. “Tell me.”

Emma sighed, wrapping an arm around her calf as she turned back to the photos. She pressed her cheek to a knee and confessed, “I sometimes wonder if I’ve done more harm than good by coming here.” Regina stiffened beneath her but she’d expected nothing less and continued. “I don’t regret letting our son talk me into it, but part of me wonders if the two of you would be happier if I hadn’t.”

When Regina said nothing, she straightened, giving her room to leave if she wanted even as she kept talking. “I don’t know which part of me it is. I feel as if I’m three different people, and I keep struggling to separate them from who I’m supposed to be,” she said and gestured to the photos. “You look happy in these, but when I look at you? Here and now, I can’t tell. I’m stumbling around and trying to find my place in a family that should have been mine from the start, yet all I do is keep hurting you and I’m scared it’ll just keep happening until you realize you’re both better off without me.”

Regina slipped to the floor beside her and Emma stared at her in surprise. She expected her to walk away, maybe call her an idiot or even skip to the tirade in which she would be told, in explicit detail, _why_ she was an idiot. She was not expecting her to sit on the ground, nor was she expecting the look of adoration she was being given.

“Where did all this come from?” Emma frowned in confusion before Regina elaborated, “The doubt, Emma. We just spoke not more than three hours ago but you never mentioned this. What brought it on?”

“I…”

Her frown deepened and she closed her mouth. Truthfully, she didn’t know. One moment, she was talking to Henry up in his room, sharing another of their stories with him in time for bed, and the next she had the thought that Regina was the type of person to want memories. It hadn’t taken her long to find the box with 10 years worth. She’d been thinking about how glad she was that the two of them seemed so happy together when it suddenly hit her harder than ever before; she had missed all of it. She should have been there, raising their child together. Regina should still be Queen, and Emma her consort Knight, their son a Prince who she would teach to fight with the occasional lesson from her brother and Graham thrown in. Snow would teach him how to wield a bow, and Regina would take him for rides in the afternoon when she took Rocinante out.

With a sigh, she shook her head and scooted back, resting her shoulders against the sofa as her head fell to a cushion. Regina pushed off from the floor and threw a leg over her, straddling her lap as she took her face in hand. “Talk to me,” she said— demanded, really. “I can’t help if you don’t.”

Closing her eyes and breathing in, Emma opened them on exhale. She hated talking, especially when it came to herself, but there was no way Regina would simply let her forget about it and go back to pretending everything was perfectly fine. “I missed you,” she admitted. “I missed us. I missed my son, our son. I keep trying to put it behind me, to be thankful that I have you both now, but everywhere I look, I’m reminded of the time we lost together, and who I have to blame.”

“Be honest.” Regina pressed a finger to her lips when she tried to respond and said, “I mean about thinking we would be happier, you didn’t simply mean Henry and I, did you?”

Emma averted her eyes in shame and swallowed down the sudden bile rising in her throat. “No,” she admitted softly. If she hadn’t come back, she wouldn’t remember who she was, or what she had missed. Boston wasn’t great, but it didn’t hurt either. “I’m sorry.”

Regina brought their heads together, hers shaking and causing their noses to brush. “Don’t be,” she murmured, stroking her cheek. “You’re allowed to grieve the lives you’ve left behind and those that were taken from you, my love. I will not fault you for that, but nor will I allow you to run because of it.”

Emma parted her lips to speak, to promise she wouldn’t run. Those habits weren’t hers. She did not abandon the people she loved. She wanted to say all of those things, but Regina silenced her with a kiss before she sat up, the softness gone from her gaze.

“We have all suffered because of what has happened, but we’re still here. I need, want and _love_ you, and so does our son. If you run from us, all you will do is waste more time we could have spent together, as a family.” Regina grabbed hold of her jaw, the threat in her voice clear as she added, “And if there is anything in life you will regret more than falling for that imp’s trick, I promise that I will do everything in my power to make sure that it is that.”

Emma swallowed thickly. If she had considered running, Regina had just found the perfect deterrent. She didn’t fear much in life, but a promise from the Evil Queen was not something she ever took lightly, and she certainly wasn’t about to start.

Lifting her head, she tugged the hand from her face and leaned forward. “I won’t run,” she promised, bringing the hand to her mouth and kissing each knuckle.

On the third, a small smile curled Regina’s mouth. She twisted her wrist around and caught Emma’s hand, entwining their fingers. “Good,” she said, rising from her lap. “Now come to bed.”

* * *

 

Emma reclined against their bed while trying to ignore the things she was feeling. As soon as they made it upstairs, Regina vanished into the bathroom, leaving her to brood on things she knew she should simply let go. She had everything. She had a wife, a son, friends and more family than she knew what to do with. So she’d missed a few years, it wasn’t the end of the world. She was there now. She had it all, and yet… and yet, she was brooding about missing endless, sleepless nights raising their son together, smelly diapers and food spattered clothes. It didn’t make sense, and it made even less sense that she was upset she’d missed what would no doubt have been a time in which she and Regina would have argued almost nonstop.

If there was anything she loathed more than the bastard imp, then it was arguments with her Queen. They never ended well, for either of them. Regina was often smug afterward but it only lasted as long as it took her to remember that when Emma was feeling defensive, she was also distant, which meant grovelling and absolutely _nothing_ enraged Regina more than having to grovel. They rarely agreed on anything, and she wasn’t delusional enough to believe raising their son together would’ve been any different.

Clenching her fists, Emma shook off the budding magic rising beneath her skin. She wasn’t angry. Irritated; yes, but not angry. She wanted to understand what she was feeling, but until she worked through it, that irritation would remain and her— Regina’s magic would just have to deal without blowing anything up.

Lack of sleep, short tempers, little if any sex at all; it was a recipe for disaster. So it begged the question, what exactly was she upset about? Missing his first words? His firsts steps? Seeing the happiness on Regina’s face whenever their son accomplished something?

Emma closed her eyes, a breath of exasperation catching in her throat as a resounding shout of _yes_ filled her mind. She may have been able to live without the first two, but the third? Regina being happy was all mattered to her.

Had she considered running? Maybe for an infinitesimal second, but it wasn’t as if she hadn’t _reason_.

Baelfire, Neverland, Killian; none of it contributed to that happiness.

Hearing the bathroom door open, any further thought on the matter fled and she opened her eyes. 

The sound of her breath hitching brought a smirk to dark lips and Regina sauntered closer, the little black negligee she wore barely brushing the tops of her thighs as she moved. “It has recently been brought to my attention that you’ve forgotten where you belong,” she stated oh so casually.

As she knelt on the edge of the bed, Emma’s words died on the tip of her tongue. It was little more than a glimpse, but a glimpse was all it took for her to become painfully aware Regina was wearing absolutely nothing underneath the negligee.

Combined with the look Regina was giving her, she was also painfully aware of the direction they were headed in and her body had zero problem with reacting in the way Regina undoubtedly expected it to as her stomach clenched and she pressed her thighs together.

“I see you’re starting to remember,” Regina mused aloud. Emma swallowed thickly. She was remembering alright. “Still. You did forget, so perhaps it is time for another reminder.”

Emma nodded dumbly, tongue devoid of words as Regina took her silence as permission and straddled her stomach. Emma zeroed in on her breasts, nipples stiff and straining against the thin piece of fabric they’d been confined to before a finger pressed to her chin, tilting her head back.

She licked her lips and held Regina’s knowing, teasing gaze until the finger disappeared and movement from below brought her attention down. Regina raised her negligee, fingers fisting within the hem and exposing the warm, inviting flesh of her cunt. “Your place is with me,” she said, slowly inching her way up on knees as she spoke. “Beside me... _Beneath_ me.”

Emma shivered, nostrils flaring. She could already smell her Queen’s arousal, and her mouth watered at the thought she might soon be able to taste it too. “You are to serve me,” Regina continued, voice deep with desire as she hovered above her mouth. “Obey me. Love me, and only me...”

The reminder of the vows she’d made almost broke the seemingly iron hold Regina had on Emma, feelings of despair washing over her and forcing her to take a breath, but it was then; the musky scent filling her senses that spoke of exactly what Regina wanted from her, that gave her the strength to push the feeling aside and concentrate on the present.

The woman who broke those vows wasn’t her. She was loyal, obedient (within reason), and entirely too in love with the woman gazing down on her to ever be unfaithful.

Closing her eyes and breathing in once more, moaning at the scent, she opened them again. “Yours,” she said, lifting her hands and running them along warm, olive thighs before she added, “Mine.”

Regina tangled a hand in her hair, intent clear as she tugged and purred, “Prove it.”

* * *

 

“Mom?”

Broken from her reverie of a certain blonde and the night they’d shared, Regina’s eyes fluttered. She stared out into the backyard through the kitchen window, coffee warming her hands, and breathed a soft sigh before she responded. “Yes dear?”

“Where’s Ma?”

With her back to him, she allowed a small smirk to blossom. “Still asleep,” she said, turning and forcing her expression into something more appropriate as she smiled down at him. “Hungry?” He shook his head and she frowned. “Why not?”

He shrugged. “I think I’m still full from dinner?”

Regina nodded. That made sense. Emma’s eyes had always been bigger than her stomach. She hadn’t quite figured out how to portion their food properly when she cooked. What Emma thought was enough to feed five people, could have fed an entire third world country, and then some. “Alright, would you like me to drive you to school this morning?”

His shoulders slumped, cheeks puffing with a breath that he released an instant later, sighing dramatically. “I’m still doing that, huh?” She pursed her lips and raised a brow, silently demanding an explanation and trying (failing) not to be amused by his theatrics. “Kinda seems pointless when we’re gonna go back to the Enchanted Forest, right?”

Conceding his point with a slight tilt of her head, she smiled. “While I won’t disagree, there are still things you can learn here that would benefit you there.”

He didn’t argue, which she thought surprising until he said, “I know,” and grinned up at her. “For the record, Ma agrees with you.”

Not fully comprehending his words, Regina scoffed. “Of course she does,” she said, and then blinked slowly in realization. “You went to Emma with this before me?”

He feigned innocence, eyes wide as he offered, “Love you?”

She laughed, unable to help herself. Her son was proving to be quite the little manipulator, and she loved him all the more for it. “Pretend for a moment that you’re a good boy and go and get your things. I’ll wake your mother and we’ll drive you to school on our way to work.”

He grinned and she returned it before she bent forward for the kiss he pressed to her cheek. He spun on his heel and she watched him leave, grin falling, replaced by her usual adoring smile as he disappeared around the corner. She turned back to the window and sipped her coffee, nose wrinkling upon seeing the heavy fog still lingering outside.

Finishing the cup, she rinsed it and left it in the sink before making her way upstairs. She paused at each guest bedroom and pounded on their doors, waiting until she heard Graham’s groan of, “I’m up,” and Killian’s cry of, “Bloody hell,” before moving on to the master bedroom.

Poking her head into the room, she smiled. Emma was still in bed, laying on her stomach with her face turned towards the door— what little of it she could make out beneath the nest of blonde curls, at least. When an eye peeked open, she realized she’d stared for too long and stepped into the room, quietly closing the door behind her. “How are you feeling?”

Emma hummed, rolling to her back and carefully stretching each limb before she turned on her side. “Like I should quit my job and never leave this bed,” she said. “You should quit yours too while I’m at it, and come join me.”

“Delightful as that sounds…” And it did. Regina shook her head, leaving the rest unsaid. Emma didn’t need her to finish. Her pout said all it needed to. “That will grant you many things, my love. My blessing to shirk your responsibilities, however, is not one of them.”

“I distinctly recall marrying you because you _weren_ _’t_ a buzz kill,” Emma said, groaning as she sat up. “I also recall plenty of times when you condoned my terrible behaviour. Where’d it all go so wrong?”

Regina rolled her eyes. “You’re as bad as your son.”

At least now she knew where he got it from. Henry had reminded her so much of Emma before she knew Emma was his mother. It was often the reason she found it hard to not think about her back when Emma had been missing, but it was also one of the reasons she’d kept him in the earlier days when she doubted her ability to care for him as he needed her to.

Rising from the bed, Emma ran a hand through her hair, smiling as she questioned, “My son, huh?”

“When he is being an insufferable drama queen, yes.”

“Oh I see,” she said, hand falling to her hip, head cocked. Regina looked her up and down, deciding she liked the confident little stance combined with the fact Emma was without a stitch of clothing. “And when is it that he’s your son? When he sets something on fire?”

“Naturally.” She smirked, stepping forward. “But far more so when he proves to have you wrapped around his little finger.”

Emma’s grin turned sly. “If memory serves, I was wrapped around a lot more of you last night than your finger.”

“Mmm,” Regina hummed, taking that last inch between them. She pushed the hand aside and replaced it with her own, both settling upon hips and pulling Emma to her as she purred, “That you were.”

Arms going around her waist, Emma sighed softly and asked, “We don’t have time for this, do we?”

“This specifically…” Regina shook her head, eyes bright with amusement. The dejection that laced the question was hard to resist. Sometimes— rarely, but sometimes; Emma’s dramatics, like their son’s, was extremely endearing. “No.”

“But we do have time for something?”

No. No they did not, but the hope in her voice made Regina smile and any thought she had to postponing went out the window. “I may be able to… spare a few minutes for you once you’ve had your shower.”


	15. Chapter 15

What Regina thought would take only a few minutes given her experience when it came to pleasing Emma, took over an hour after Emma grabbed her and threw her down on their bed. She should have known better than to tease her wife as much as she had but she hadn’t been able to help herself, and now she was late with no one but herself to blame.

After dropping Henry and then Emma off, she waltzed into her office at exactly 9:45, forty minutes later than she usually arrived. Her first appointment sat in the chair opposite her own, waiting patiently because having to wait an extra fifteen minutes apparently _wasn_ _’t_ the end of the world as those in the past would have had her believe. She was surprised to see Robin considering the way Emma had scared him off. He’d been avoiding her since that day outside the school and though a small part— the part that had thought they were friends before anything else— missed him, the lack of him in her life was more of a relief than anything.

Emma was right. She despised Fate and everything it entailed. When she gave him a chance, she had been desperate to fill the void that Emma left behind when she disappeared. Now that Emma had returned, it reminded her of what she had achieved the last time she told Fate where it could go, and the sight of him only served to churn her stomach uncomfortably.

Despite it, she tried not to let her feelings show and pushed them down. He didn’t deserve her disdain, not really. His inability to take no for an answer and his abominable taste in flowers aside, he wasn’t a bad person deep down. She didn’t want him the way he wanted her, but she knew that someone else would. Perhaps it would even be someone who deserved him, persistence, terrible flowers and all.

“Robin,” she said, greeting him as she rounded her desk.

He smiled up at her and held up a bouquet. Lilies, this time; surprisingly not as awful as his usual selections. She inwardly sighed— she was only human, after all —and placed her purse on the desk before she accepted them.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” she admitted, taking a seat as she gave the flowers their courtesy sniff and smile before setting them aside. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He cleared his throat and sat up straight, shoulders rounding as if bracing himself. She tilted her head, somewhat curious but also wary of the look of determination that crossed his face. The expression had never boded well for her in the past and after their last conversation— if one could call her threatening him such a thing, she wouldn’t put it passed him to continue trying to ‘court’ her even knowing she was married.

She could hear the breath he pulled into his lungs before he calmly stated, “I came to apologize.”

Lashes fluttering in disbelief, she blinked slowly. It was unexpected, to say the least. Her first thought to ask was _why_ , but then considering her previous thoughts, she figured the answer was rather obvious. Not only had he asked an inappropriate question in front of her wife and their son, but he’d been responsible for her breaking down in front of them too. He had then avoided her, tossing their friendship aside for the sake of his own pride, or whatever it was that stopped him from coming to see her sooner. Regardless of what she felt or didn’t feel when it came to him, she supposed she should at least be upset about that, and proceeded accordingly.

“Why?” She held up a hand when he made to respond. “I don’t mean ‘why are you apologizing’ I mean, why now? It’s been weeks. You’ve avoided me this entire time, and only now you’re deciding our friendship might have actually been worth the effort to come to me and apologize for your, quite frankly, appalling behaviour?”

He ducked his head in what she thought was shame before she’d caught the flash of something else in his eyes, and frowned. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly what the emotion was, but in the ten years they’d known one another, she was quite certain it wasn’t an emotion he’d shown often, if at all. “Robin?”

“I…” He took another and raised his head. Whatever she thought she’d seen was gone when their eyes met. “I am afraid that I allowed my ego to get the best of me,” he explained with a crooked smile. “I know it is no excuse. I would not blame you if you chose not to forgive me for the way I behaved, but I wanted you to know that I truly am sorry. I don’t know what came over me. It was disrespectful of me to ask such a thing of you and I have regretted it every moment since.”

Studying him curiously, Regina folded her arms as she leaned forward and placed them on the desk. He sounded genuine enough, but there was something niggling at her that told her she needed to be cautious of him. She thought it ridiculous of course. Robin had his flaws, but he was a sweet and gentle man who hadn’t so much as raised his voice that she could remember.

He reminded her of Sidney on occasion. He was no where near as obsessed as her little genie, but he’d proven himself loyal and devoted to ensuring her happiness whether it was with or without him. The flowers, the invitations to lunch and the random visits to her office to see how her day was going were the kind of things she put down to the two of them being friends, one of whom had a vaguely flattering infatuation for the other while said other; an understandable tolerance for such things.

She was a Queen. Being the recipient of infatuation, from men or women, was something she was used to and yet, the suspicious feeling remained as she considered him carefully.

His smile began to falter the longer she stared but eventually she sat back with a sigh. While she intended to forgive him, that feeling along with the one of relief she’d had when he was out of the picture were too strong to deny, or ignore. “I accept your apology,” she said, forcing a smile and hoping it was enough to soften the blow as she continued, “But I think these past few weeks apart have proved, to myself at least, that this… friendship between us might require more effort than either of us are inclined to exert.”

When she was done speaking, his smile had fallen entirely and that same flash of emotion she hadn’t recognized earlier returned. “Regina, I… I don’t understand. It was a simple misunderstanding that I had hoped to correct. You are worth all the effort in the world, I don’t wish to lose our friendship over this.”

“A simple misunderstanding,” she repeated, eyes narrowing at his nod. “Is that what you call expressing your desire for something more between us while I remembered watching my wife almost bleed to death? There was no misunderstanding, Robin, only you being inconsiderate and thinking of yourself.”

That the memory hadn’t been real didn’t detract from the fact he continued to disrespect her and her marriage as he tried to dismiss his behaviour as something as insignificant as a simple misunderstanding. Had it been such a small thing, she wouldn’t have _let_ him avoid her so long in the first place.

For someone who’d claimed a True Love of his own once upon a time, she marveled at his complete disregard as to the importance of Emma. “A misunderstanding,” she repeated, more incredulous than before and more to herself than the man in front of her.

The more she thought about it and replayed his words over in her head, the more upset she became, and incredulity soon gave way to anger. Part of her was well aware she was overreacting and that he likely hadn’t meant it quite in the way she chose to take it, but another part merely wanted to be done with the whole soul mates and fairy dust nonsense that convinced her to bother trying to begin with.

It was the latter she embraced as she picked up the flowers from her desk, looked him dead in the eye, and threw them at him. “Get out of my office,” she growled, “and don’t bother trying to weasel your way back into my good graces again.”

“But—”

“Out,” she barked, even going so far as to point in the direction of the door behind him as she glared.  Emma meant the world to her and if he hadn’t understood before, she wasn’t about to leave any room for doubt.

“Regina,” he tried again, slowly rising from his seat. “I—”

“I don’t care,” she snapped, feeling some satisfaction watching him as he backed away from her. “I am done pretending to be someone I am not. What little tolerance I had for you and any foolish notions as to the future of our relationship ever progressing beyond friendship that you had, has come and gone.”

He stopped his retreat and her brow lifted as his face hardened in a way she never imagined it capable. “One little comment, and that’s it? We’re no longer friends? I mean so little to you?”

Her brow rose even higher. “Our friendship means as much to me as my marriage means to you,” she stated. It meant less, so much less, but she knew a man could only take so much and by the look of him, Robin was at his breaking point.

“We’re destined,” he retorted, the words falling pathetically from his lips as she outright laughed in response.

“You’re delusional,” she said, shaking her head. “If I am destined for anyone, then I am already married to her and if you think you could ever compare, then I suggest you seek professional help because next to my wife? You are nothing.”

“I am your soul mate!”

 

* * *

 

 

“We have a problem.”

Elbow on the desk, Emma rolled her head in the palm of her hand, glad to have something to distract her from filling out the latest report on the Adventures of Grumpy the Dwarf, even if said something was as ominous as Regina made the four words sound. She grinned, letting her gaze speak for itself as she said, “Does it involve the fact we parted less than two hours ago and you’re already back for more? Because that is definitely not a problem from where I’m sitting.”

Eyes rolling, Regina dumped the bag in her hand down on the desk and Emma dropped her arm in order to lean forward. Delighted, a sound not too unlike a squeak stuck in her throat as she opened the bag and found a mountain of pastries inside. The lengths Regina went to to show her she was loved were very much appreciated, and would most likely be the death of her.

“Rumple intends to return.”

A deep sigh followed as the mood suddenly plummeted. “Okay,” she said, sitting back, slumped with a mild pout on her lips. “Way to kill the mood I was going for but again, not seeing the problem.” She paused, donut halfway to her mouth when the thought hit her and she narrowed her eyes. “Unless you’re going to stop me from killing him, in which case; huge problem.”

“You’re rambling” Regina tilted her head in question, expression shifting to show her amusement in the form of a small smirk playing along her lips. “Did someone already feed you your daily allowance of sugar?”

“Ha ha,” Emma mock laughed. “Funny.”

“The problem my dear,” Regina continued, her voice little more than a husky purr as she rounded the desk and came to stand beside her. “is that I have been meaning to talk to you about something Killian shared with me and it seems I am being forced to do so sooner than I would have liked.”

Emma hummed, curious but no less invested in her donut than she was before as she chewed, offering around a bite, “Maybe I should let you kill Rumple then.”

Sighing, Regina sat on the edge of the desk with a huff. “I think those other personalities of yours have run away with a few of your brain cells. You used to take these things seriously.”

“Some people lose their hair as they get older, others lose control of their bowels.” Emma shrugged and added, “Me? I just so happened to lose the stick that was up my once tight, young ass. So sorry.”

“Once tight and young?” Regina smirked. “From all I remember of this morning, you’re not giving yourself nearly enough credit, my love.”

Cheeks warming considerably with the compliment, her mouth gaped a moment. Regina dared chide her for not taking their conversation seriously, and then reminded her of what she’d let her do to her? That was just cruel.

In her attempt to dismiss the memories Regina conjured with her words, she missed the tell-tale flick of a wrist and barely managed to stifle her surprise when her chair pushed out from under the desk, seemingly all on its own. Regina was off the desk and in her lap in an instant, a shit-eating grin painted across her face that said she knew exactly what the strangled sound meant.

When she then darted forward and took a bite from her donut, Emma wondered if she should tell her she resembled the Joker whenever she grinned like that, and bit her lip because _no_ but also _yes_. Either Regina would get a kick out of it, or she’d be offended and act all high and mighty about it which, either way, Emma considered a win.

Ultimately though, she knew Regina and she definitely knew the makings of a distraction when it was seated comfortably in her lap. Running the hand not currently occupied by the half-eaten donut along her wife’s thigh, she pressed their heads together and smiled softly. “Who are we distracting?”

Chestnut eyes rolled a second time before Regina sighed and her shoulders dropped. “Robin came to see me this morning to apologize.”

“You then, but good— finally.” At the expression that immediately clouded her face, Emma pulled back a bit to assess the scowl, and raised a brow in understanding that she wasn’t misinterpreting anything. “Not good?”

“He let slip that he’d spoken to Rumple before he left town.”

Regina rarely lied to her, so registering the ping of her innate lie detector had Emma squinting. Usually she would let it go, because if Regina lied, then she had good reason but there was something about her voice that made Emma think she may actually enjoy the truth. Only vaguely suspicious sounding, she repeated, “He let it slip, huh?”

Dark lips twitched. “He may or may not have been hanging from the ceiling of my office at the time.”

Emma laughed. “May or may not have, my ass, and I missed it? Your cruelty knows no bounds, wife.”

“I was a little preoccupied, dear.” Exaggerating the extent of her disappointment, Emma’s chest visibly heaved with the strength of her sigh before Regina swatted her shoulder. She grinned, earning herself yet another eye roll. “Shall I continue, or would you rather drive me from your office with your theatrical idiocies?”

Snaking an arm around her waist, Emma’s grin only widened. “I’d just follow you,” she said and Regina scoffed. “Let’s go then. Robin spoke to Rumple, etcetera etcetera. What’s this have to do with Killian?”

“He made a deal with Pan,” Regina stated bluntly.

So bluntly that it took Emma a minute to process the words before she stiffened. “I’m sorry, what?”

Regina sighed. “Killian,” she said. It had to be done. It had to be blunt, and that was the exact reason she’d decided to sit in her wife’s lap. “He escaped Neverland by making a deal with Peter Pan. In exchange for him not coming after you, Killian promised to bring him Rumple.”

“Why?”

“You’ve spent every day since he came here telling me he’s your friend and—”

“Not that,” Emma interrupted, huffing. “I mean why does Pan want Rumple?”

“Oh.” Uncharacteristically, Regina shrugged as she said, “Apparently he’s Rumple’s father.”

“Seriously?” Emma questioned in disbelief. Regina nodded and she shook her head as she said, “No wonder Rumplestiltskin is a bastard. How did your meeting with Robin end up being about Peter Pan and Hook?”

“He said something…” Regina sighed, then corrected, “He _knew_ something he shouldn’t have.”

Emma raised a brow. “Which was?”

“You remember the story I told you about Tinkerbelle and her wanting to help me find my happy ending?” Emma nodded. She remembered. It wasn’t exactly her favourite story of Regina’s, not least of all because it was incomplete. “She did, or at least, she assured me she did. I find it extremely laughable now, but at the time…”

“What happened?”

“She led me to a tavern where she pointed out a man inside...”

“Yuck,” Emma interjected, wrinkling her nose. If there was one good thing she had to say about the world they were in, it was the rampant feminism that existed and the fact literally no woman would ever claim another’s happiness relied on the attentions of another, man or otherwise. “Pixie dust in bullshit.”

“Indeed,” Regina agreed with a throaty chuckle.

Finishing the rest of her donut, Emma wiped the hand on her shirt and asked, “So what’d you do at the tavern?”

“Ran,” Regina replied, glaring down at the powered streak her hand left behind.

“Wait.” Emma frowned. A memory tugged at the back of her head, then her eyes widened. “Was that the night I first saw you?”

Regina’s brow furrowed in thought, streak forgotten as she looked back up at her. “You would have been, what? 15?”

Emma nodded. “Yeah. I was hiding. You came running out of the tavern as though you were being chased. I remember you stopping suddenly and looking straight at me, even though I’m pretty sure you couldn’t have seen me.”

Regina started to nod as she spoke. “I did,” she said. “Your eyes. There was a torch nearby. I remember seeing a glint in the bushes and these eyes staring at me. I was going to say something but I…” Her frown deepened. “I thought maybe it was something, or someone Tinkerbelle left behind to see if I did what she sent me there to do. I kept remembering your eyes. For years, it drove me mad and… and I can’t believe this is only just now coming up.”

“You were crying,” Emma said, knowing it was true as she said it. She couldn’t remember seeing the tears, but she remembered the feeling she had when she looked into those eyes. She used to think about it all the time and wonder at how differently things might have turned out had she revealed herself to the distraught young Queen. Would she have joined the King’s army a year later? Would she have helped Snow White escape her supposedly evil stepmother upon learning she’d murdered the King?

“I was scared.”

“I know,” she murmured, the confession stirring an ache within her chest. There had been so many missed chances. Chances that may have led them to discovering each other long before their lives spiralled out of control. “I wanted to say something too, but I knew who you were. I figured you’d just dismiss me, so I stayed quiet and waited until you left.” After a brief pause, she admitted, “I dream about that night all the time.”

“Really?”

“Really.” She smiled. “The second I laid eyes on you, I was a goner.”

“I was almost twice your age,” Regina protested, scandalized. She’d been 25 at the time, married to the King for almost 8 years. To think a 15 year old Emma had been attracted to her then—

“Didn’t stop you fucking me six years later,” Emma reminded, voice slicing through her thoughts. Regina grinned at that and Emma teased, “You know we’re only a year apart in age now? It’s weird to think about, but at least you’re not a cougar anymore.”

Regina gasped in mock offense despite her continued grin. Emma winked as she reached for the bag on her desk, and Regina snatched it out from under her fingers. “Woman, I swear to god.”

“Were I wearing boots, I would be shaking in them,” she deadpanned, holding the bag out of reach while Emma tried her hardest to take it from her. “You can have them back when you agree to convince Killian to go along with my plan.”

Immediately halting the attempt to wrestle the pastries away from her, Emma slumped back in her seat. “Plan?” she questioned. “What plan?”

Dropping the bag in her lap, Regina rolled her eyes. “The plan to capture Rumplestiltskin and give him to Pan, dear. Do keep up.”

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may want to re-read the last scene of the previous chapter, simply because this one starts off from there and I know it's been a while since I updated this.

Ah. _That plan_ , Emma thought, head nodding. She’d prefer to kill Rumple herself, but the idea that he might be tortured by his own father was something to consider. Whatever Peter Pan wanted with him, she was fairly certain it had nothing to do with a family reunion— at least not the kind you wanted to be present for. Assuming you were the average person with morals, were vaguely squeamish and didn’t particularly enjoy the misfortune of others.

In which case, she was as far from average as one could get.

“Ever been to Neverland?”

Regina frowned as she answered, “No.” The confusion on her face made Emma smile. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking,” she drawled. “That if I’m giving up _my_ kill, I should be allowed the privilege of seeing what I’m giving it up _for_.”

Both brows raised, Regina gaped. “You want to go _back_ to Neverland, just so you can make sure Rumplestiltskin suffers?”

Grinning, Emma replied, “Yup.”

“Are you insane?!” She blinked, suddenly all too aware she’d just done something wrong, though not entirely sure what. Regina sighed in exasperation at her baffled look and explained, “If this Peter Pan is as manipulative and conniving as you and Killian claim, then there is no way in _hell_ I am allowing you to go back there.”

Emma stared at her, even more baffled. They were two of, if not the _most_ powerful, then pretty damn close to it, sorceresses in existence, and Regina was worried about some puerile little man child getting the better of them? “Wow,” she said, chuckling humourlessly. “Twenty years behind a desk really screwed you over, didn’t it?”

Regina blinked. “What?”

“What,” Emma mocked. “Where the hell is my Queen?” Grabbing her by the waist, she lifted and dumped Regina on top of her desk before she stood, deftly catching the bag of pastries in her lap before it fell to the floor. She tossed it onto the desk beside her wife and scowled. “I’ve seen her here and there when I need to be threatened and put in line, but it seems she’s absent right now. If you could tell her we need to talk, I’d appreciate it.”

“Emma…”

Husked. Deep. Warning.

Emma flashed her a smile. “Close,” she said, placing a hand on either side of her as she bent forward and leaned in. “Wanna try again?”

A hand clutched the collar of her shirt and Regina bared her teeth. “Keep it up, _knight_ , and I’ll mount that pretty little head upon my mantel.”

Tilting said head, Emma grinned and nuzzled an olive toned cheek. “Much better,” she murmured, feeling the shiver down her spine. She hummed and brushed her lips along the soft skin of her wife’s jaw. “Serious question,” she continued. “Have you, by chance, been hit with one of those pesky memory spells? Perhaps you simply hit your head at some point in the past that I wasn’t aware of?”

A growl sounded close to her ear. “Are you _trying_ to anger me, dear?”

“Not particularly,” she confessed. If she were, she’d have gotten herself a lot more than a measly threat and a growl by now. “I’m just having a hard time figuring out how you’ve apparently forgotten who we are.”

What happened to the Queen who took shit from no one, who was screwed over and over again by life and refused to quit? Where was the woman she married, who made the devil look like an ill-behaved child in comparison? That was to say nothing of who _she_ was; a knight first and foremost. The black Knight, Champion to the Evil Queen, conquerer of kingdoms, killer of kings, bane to all who opposed Queen Regina; her ruler, her lover, her wife.

The hand at her collar pushed, the order given silent but understood. Emma resisted a moment before she pulled back, just enough that their eyes met and she could see the frustration from within before the hand moved to grasp her chin. “I have _not_ forgotten who we are,” Regina replied calmly. “I simply no longer consider my _ego_ more important than _your_ life.” She gripped her harder, nails digging into flesh as she said, “I lost you once, I will not let anyone, least of all you, put me through that again.”

Emma slumped forward as the words washed over her, head falling to a shoulder as Regina released her. Always different, always the way. She was a Knight first and foremost, but never to her Queen. She was the Queen’s Consort, lover, wife, then Knight. Always in that order. Regina humoured her more often than not, but her mind never changed, not when it came to her place in life.

“Shit.”

Arms wrapped around her waist and lips pressed against her head. “I am a Queen no longer,” Regina reminded her. “And you, my love, are no knight…”

Emma jerked upright then, eyes narrowed. “You will _always_ be Queen,” she argued. She straightened and gestured around them. “ _This_ is not permanent, and even if it was, my pledge was _not_ temporary.” She wasn’t just consort, lover and wife but now she was no longer a knight at all? Fuck. _That_. “I will _always_ be a knight— _your_ knight, and fuck you for thinking otherwise.”

Legs joined the arms around her waist as she tried to step away and Regina held her in place. “You claim to be my knight, and you speak to me like that? You sound much more like my wife, dear. Are you certain I am the one who has forgotten who we are?”

“Given the shit that just came out of your mouth?” Emma snorted. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s still you.”

Dark eyes flashed even darker but the smirk painted across Regina’s mouth spoke volumes and Emma bit her lip. Any other time, and any other place, she knew that look. It was the look that said she had roughly ten seconds to grovel and beg forgiveness before she regretted her every choice in life up to, and including, the very last that made her think she could _dare_. She’d become very familiar with that look in the first few years they were together, before her fealty had meant what the Queen demanded it mean.

Unwrapping one arm, Regina slowly caressed her cheek with the back of a hand. “I missed this,” she confessed, voice low— telling of a desire that shouldn’t be. “Is that odd, do you think?”

Lids fluttering, Emma shook her head, unable to keep from smiling. Usually she was the one with terrible timing, but there Regina was using _that_ voice, knowing she would know exactly what it meant. There was trouble and then there was Trouble, and _this_ was decidedly the latter.

“You’re supposed to be mad at me,” she murmured. “You don’t tolerate disrespect, no matter the source, remember?”

“Mmm.”

The soft caress continued, knuckles gliding over her lips before Regina cupped her cheek and pulled her in for a kiss. Emma sighed against her mouth but she was helpless to do anything other than give in to it. It might not work for those little martians she sometimes watched on cable late at night, but for Regina? Resistance really _was_ futile.

Fingers fell from her cheek, down passed her neck to slip into her shirt and stroke along her collarbone. “My beautiful, foolish knight,” Regina spoke against her lips before she nibbled and sucked the lower one into her mouth.

Emma groaned, incapable of voicing offense when she was doing such wonderful things.

“We can’t both be selfish,” Regina added, the scratch of nails on her skin almost enough to distract Emma from the words. “And if I am Queen, then you have to concede that what I want trumps what you want.”

A sound of protest stuck in her throat at the same time teeth bore down on her lip and Emma groaned again. “Oh yes,” Regina purred. “Your desire for revenge, for… _justice_ against Rumplestiltskin means _nothing_ when compared to my desire for you— to keep you safe, alive, with me… with our son.”

 _Mother_. She always forgot that one.

“Treacherous,” Emma muttered; the concession, irritated but fond. “My Queen is treacherous.” Using her words against her like that. She should have known better. _Did_ know better. Of course Regina would play her like that, it was classic Queen trickery. “You should be ashamed.”

She felt the lips against hers quirk with either a grin or smile. “Oh I am,” Regina said. It was definitely a grin. “So very ashamed, my love.”

 

* * *

 

“That’s not possible, I’m afraid.”

Regina glared at Killian. If Rumple was allowed to return to Storybrooke, then capturing him while he possessed his Dark One powers would be nigh on impossible, especially when their— hers and Emma’s— magic was still so wonky. She’d reasoned, then, that capturing him _outside_ Storybrooke made the most sense, which was when Killian interrupted her.

Oblivious to the look she was giving him, he was staring at Emma as he explained, “Pan bound his shadow to my ship. If we want to capture the imp, then we need to get him on board but outside of Storybrooke, my ship and the shadow lose their magic.”

With a thoughtful frown, Emma considered them both awhile before she spoke. “What if we capture him outside of Storybrooke, bring him to the ship, and then bring them both back over in to town, would that work?”

Killian shook his head. “I don’t know how it is for magic users when they lose their magic, but I know the shadow doesn’t immediately recover. We’ve been here a little over a week and he’s only just speaking to me again.”

Frown deepening, Emma fell silent. Regina eyed the two of them, both lost in their own thoughts as they ignored her entirely. She knew it wasn’t on purpose, though that didn’t prevent it from angering her, if only a little. She loathed to be ignored, but for the good of a decent plan that would actually _work_ , she was willing to suffer through it. She did, however, make a not to ask Killian about the shadow later. He never mentioned the thing _spoke_ to him, let alone that it was bound to his ship.

Emma snapped her fingers, drawing both of their gazes to her. “That poison you were fond of back in Neverland,” she said to Killian. “Don’t tell me you came here without it.”

He smirked. “Of course not, love.” He sighed though and Emma seemed to understand before he even explained the sound, as Regina watched her wife deflate. “Dreamshade is lethal, if you’ll recall. It might very well kill him before we get him over the line.”

Eyes rolling, Regina huffed, over being patient and ignored as she said, “So hit him with it _before_ you enter town.”

“You’re forgetting the shadow, Your Majesty,” Killian drawled. “He may very well live for hours with dreamshade in his system, but he won’t last even remotely close to a full week.”

“We could always leave the ship here,” Emma suggested, shrugging when they both looked to her. “What? We live in a world with cars that can travel hundreds of miles in a matter of hours, we don’t actually _need_ the ship for anything more than trapping him. We can introduce the dreamshade to his system before entering Storybrooke, then drive him straight to the docks.”

He nodded as Emma spoke. “That could work, although do any of us know _where_ exactly he went?”

“No,” Regina admitted, staring at the side of Emma’s head as a thought occurred to her. “But we do know who he’s searching for.”

Emma turned to her slowly, understanding in her eyes. “Henry,” she breathed. She shot to her feet, the excitement rolling off her in waves. Regina smiled as Emma explained to a very confused looking pirate. “We can use his blood to find his father, which means we can find Rumplestiltskin.”

 

* * *

 

The most difficult part of their plan wasn’t convincing Henry they needed his blood, but convincing him he couldn’t come to New York with them once they’d tracked down where Baelfire was hiding. It took Emma promising to teach him to use a sword, Killian promising a ride on his ‘awesome’ ship sometime in the future, and Regina agreeing to two nights a week becoming ‘pizza night’ before he wandered off with his aunt and uncle, tucked safely beneath David’s arm while Snow blathered on beside them both about her students realizing how old they were biologically and deciding they no longer needed to attend school.

Emma smirked as she watched the three of them traipse off down the road. She turned, lips parting to suggest they take the bug since she was driving. A look from Regina was all it took for her mouth to close of its own accord, though her wife helpfully supplied an, “Over my dead body, Swan,” that got her point across perfectly.

“If we crash,” she said, sliding into the driver’s seat. “It’s your fault.”

“If we crash,” Regina echoed, “And you don’t die from the impact, you’ll wish you had for ruining my car.”

Snickering at the two of them, Killian joined in as he climbed in back. “If we crash...” He paused and both turned, brows raised as they waited. He grinned. “Well, I’m too pretty to die, so try your best not to.”

Regina scoffed as she faced forward with a muttered, “Out of the three of us, he thinks _he_ _’s_ the pretty one.”

Emma shook her head at him, but snorted at her wife. Starting the car, she side-eyed Regina and said, “Don’t worry, you’re still the prettiest Queen of them all.”

Regina sniffed. “I wasn’t worried.”

“But she _is_ the only Queen among us,” Killian pointed out with a little too much enthusiasm in his voice.

“With the amount of mascara you wear, you can understand where someone might get confused,” Regina grumbled childishly.

From that moment on, Emma ignored them for the most part, content to let them squabble amongst themselves.

She was surprised, but glad when an hour passed and Regina had so far resisted threatening him, as she loved to do. While Emma would never side with Hook over her wife, there were a few times when she paid attention to their bickering and had the thought that Regina was being a little too hard on him. If she were a better friend, she likely would have said something, but it was just something else she was going to have to get used to. Killian could handle himself, and it seemed to help Regina to work through the issues she had with him.

Three hours into the drive, they stopped at a diner on the side of the road where they continued to throw barbs back and forth.

“Everyone is staring at you,” Killian mumbled, shoving half a cheeseburger into his mouth.

Regina rolled her eyes in disgust. “I think you’ll find they’re staring at you, and wondering how a pig fit into so much leather.”

Emma glanced around, noting that in actual fact absolutely _no one_ was looking at any of them, and sighed in fond exasperation. She loved them both, but they were well passed ridiculous at this point.

When the fourth hour came and they were _still_ at it, she could no longer hide just how amusing she found them. She wondered if this was what parents had to deal with when they took road trips with their kids. Instead of the constant stream of _are we there yet?_ She had to deal with two, supposedly mature adults, pretending to dislike each other more than, she’d started to realize, either of them truly _did_.

Regina noticed her smile at the thought, cutting herself off mid-insult to turn her attention to her wife.

“Em-ma,” she purred, leaning into her as far as her seatbelt would allow. “What are you smiling about?”

“Smiling?” She questioned, feigning confusion even as the smile widened. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. What is this smiling you speak of?”

A finger poked her cheek, which now actually _hurt_ from how hard she was smiling. “Em-ma,” Regina repeated. “Are you laughing at us?”

“Nope,” she lied, attempting to straighten out her face, and failing miserably. “That would be mean,” she added. “I’m not mean. I am a kind, delightful person.”

Twin snorts sounded in amusement and she grinned.

“You’re about as kind and delightful as Hook is hygienic.”

“Hey!” He protested when Emma laughed. “I thought we were passed me?”

“Oh dear,” Regina drawled, twisting in her seat as she met his gaze. “There are so many things wrong with you, I fear we’ll never move passed you.”

“Regina,” Emma murmured, only slightly chiding but it was enough that Regina fell back against her seat with a pout.

“Now whose the buzzkill?”

Reminded of the day when she tried to convince her they should quit their jobs and spend the rest of their lives in bed together, when she uttered that exact thing at her wife, Emma chuckled. “Still you,” she teased, capturing her hand as Regina tried to swat her thigh.

Her eyes remained on the road as she brought it to her mouth, lips brushing against knuckles. “Hold off on the abuse until I can appreciate it, yeah?” she said, winking at her wife.

“You two sicken me,” Killian piped up from the backseat.

Smirking, Regina rolled her eyes. “No one asked you, you Jack Sparrow wannabe.”

He gasped, mock wounded but the silent offense that followed lasted no more than a few seconds before he broke it again.  “I have no idea who that is.”

Emma laughed as Regina muttered a soft and— if Emma wasn’t mistaken— somewhat affectionate sounding, “Idiot.”

Preempting another hour of listening to them insulting each other, Emma commented a moment later, “We’re almost there.”

“Good.” Regina turned her head and stared out of the window as she said, “Maybe he’ll get lost in the city and we can write it off as a fortunate loss.”

Eyes flicking up into the rear-view mirror, Emma saw the grin Killian wore and pursed her lips. It was only fair to let him take a shot.

“And here I thought you were one of the “I will always find you” brigade now.”

“I will destroy you,” Regina growled as Emma’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Do not test me, pirate.”


End file.
